


The Many and Varied Adventures of Commander Milankovic and His Crew

by HerbertJenkins



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Humor, Awkward Sexual Situations, BDSM, Bodily Fluids, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Character Death, Crack, Crack Relationships, Dildos, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Everybody Dies, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Forced Prostitution, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Heterosexual Sex, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Kinky, Lemon, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Nutella, Oral Sex, Penises, Polyamorous Character, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Russia, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Sexual Violence, Slash, Smut, Spanking, This Is STUPID, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/F, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators, Weird Plot Shit, Weirdness, Yaoi, Yuri, everyone fucks everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 76
Words: 68,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerbertJenkins/pseuds/HerbertJenkins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too explicit for ff.net and Wattpad. Contains shit-tons of sex and shit-tons of OCs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dramatis Personae, and Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My aim is to make you feel strong emotions. Whichever way they go, I do not care, for if it happens it means I have done my job. Don't go into this expecting something serious, because it really isn't.

**The Many and Varied Adventures of Commander Milankovic and His Crew**

_Dramatis Personae_

**Cain** , a troublesome fighter, and **Abel** , his navigator

**Deimos** , Cain’s lackey, and **Yura** (Phobos), his navigator

**Jaden** , task name Misfit, and **Laurentina** (Scarlett), his navigator

**Bautista** , task name Endymion, **Olivera** (Serenity), his navigator

**Johan** , task name Hadrian, and **Carlo** (Antinous), his navigator

**Matthias** , task name Cream, and **Gayle** (Strawberry), his navigator

**Jacobus** , task name Phantom, and **Sonja** (Ghost), his navigator

**Alice** , task name Sherlock, and **Matilda** (Watson), her navigator

**Seryozha** , task name Apollo, and **Jeanne** (Hyacinth), his navigator

**Sasha Krayevsky** , task name Nisus, and **Sasha Brankovič** (Euryalus), his navigator

**Alyosha** , task name Fish, and **Sasha the Soldier** (Chips), his navigator

**Keeler** , the Lead Navigator

**Encke** , the Lead Fighter

**Commander Milankovic** , the head of this mission

**Master Shrek** , the head of the Swamp, and **Adjutant General Putin** , his subordinate, with **Dmitry Medvedev** , Putin’s submissive

**Officers Lenox** and **O’Hara** , military police officers

**Butts** , a medical attendant

**Volkov** , a morgue attendant

 

_Chapter the First_

The fighters were being loud as usual. They were making their way to the ship on which they would be situated for this mission— apparently, a dangerous one, but all the fighters were confident they’d kick ass.

            “Y’allz better not look at, touch, speak to, or even _think_ about my navigator, alright?” Cain declared, trying to set himself up as the alpha of the group.

            “Fuck that, how are we meant to know which one’s even yours?” Alice Brown, the only female fighter on this mission, replied.

            “You’ll know, kids,” Cain said, flashing one of his signature evil smiles. “He’ll have a scar. So, don’t fuck with him. He’s mine.”

            “So he’s your _boyfriend_?” another fighter, Seryozha, taunted. (It was kind of hypocritical taunting, because he was gay too.) “I understand it all now!”

            “Shut up,” Cain spat. “before I fucking smash your head in.”

            The ship soon came into view. It was not too big, but was shining in the midday sun like some expensive-ass jewel. It was the latest model, developed by the Russians (the best spacefaring nation at this time), and looked slick and swaggin’.

            “Don’t even think about calling dibs on the best dorm,” Cain said, really annoying everyone by this point. “Cos I’ve got that.”

            “Really? Are you really electing to act like a teenager?” Roberto Bautista, the ex-dancer, retorted.

            “Piss off, Twinkle Toes. It’s your first time in space, and it’s my second, so I’m the most senior. _Soooooo…_ I get the best room. D’you understand?”

            “I’ve actually been to space five times,” another fighter, a suave gentleman called Alyosha, cut in. “So, if logic prevails, that would mean I get the best dorm.”

            Cain had been defeated, and he knew it. All his annoyingness had caught up with him, so he shut the hell up and walked in silence to the ship.

~

Meanwhile, the navigators were doing exactly the same thing. They were a little more subdued and civilised, so weren’t talking much. There was certainly no Cain equivalent in their group, thank the gods.

            For all of them, it was their first time in space, so they were rather scared. And none were more scared than Sasha Brankovič. He literally had no idea how he’d passed through the training to become a nav, because he was certainly not ready to put it into action. He was going to fucking _space_! Where there was no oxygen! Not even nice toilets! Gods, it was, what, the 24th century; why hadn’t they figured out how to make good galactic loos?

            The ship was now in sight, which made most of the navigators even more scared. They were going in this thing for God knows how long, with like a dozen other people who they’d have to like or they’d be in deep shit.

            Sadly for Matilda Hansen, she’d already made a few enemies. She and this other female nav, Jeanne, were having a boasting competition to see who was the most badass. Matilda had boasted that she’d make a great fighter, which had attracted the attention of one Sonja Ayton. She’d guffawed at the thought, since she knew that Matilda was a real wuss when it came down to it, and Matilda had heard and almost beat her up. Carlo Turner had stepped in to try and break it up, which made Matilda dislike him. She was gonna have to avoid these three for the entire mission.

            They went inside the ship, and were greeted by a dodgy-looking man who introduced himself as Commander Milankovic. He told them to go to their dorms and wait for their fighters, who were just being briefed by Lead Fighter Encke. The navigators were meant to see Lead Nav Keeler, but Keeler had been nice and let them all rest in their rooms for the night, since it had been a long day travelling to the ship. What a nice man Keeler was!

            The navs got the keys to their dorms and went off to their respective rooms. Most of them were on the same deck, and a few of them were even adjacent. Matilda, sadly, was next to Jeanne.

            Presently, everyone’s fighters entered.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter the Second_

Laurentina was thrilled to find that her fighter was a young, beautiful man that looked just so intelligent and wise.

            “Hey, baby,” he said, winking naughtily.

            “Hi…” Laurentina replied, looking a bit sheepish.

            “And what name do you go by, darling?” he asked.

            Laurentina looked down at her dogtag, which said her task name for this mission. No one, be it fighter or navigator, was meant to give their real name to anyone, and for each mission all were given a new name. Since the commanders had to make up literally hundreds for every fighter and nav pair, some were bound to be unfathomably stupid.

            “Scarlett,” she said, so thankful that her task name was somewhat normal.

            “Well, I’m Misfit,” he replied, sticking a hand out for her to shake.

            Laurentina bit her lip so much she almost ate it. Misfit… Damn, what a hot name. It fit him so well. He just looked so badass. Gods, she couldn’t wait to do the mission at his side.

            “Good evening, Misfit,” Laurentina said, trying to give him a sexy smile.

            “And a very good evening to you too, Scarlett. Now where do I put my stuff?”

            “You’re on the top bunk,” Laurentina told him.

            He leapt up there like a maverick monkey.

            “Damn, we’re so far away from each other,” he noted. “I would prefer to be a bit closer…”  
            Laurentina’s stomach filled with crazy-ass butterflies. He wanted to sleep NEXT TO HER… Maybe MAKE LOVE to her…

            “I think we can move the bunks,” she said.

            “We’ll see…”

            He grabbed the metal slab that was meant to be his bed and started to wrench it from the wall. His huge biceps bulged on his arms, and Laurentina almost got moist as hell. She had scored a _really_ hot fighter…

            Eventually, Jaden had removed his bunk from the wall, and then got to work on Laurentina’s. After a while of him labouring, and Laurentina gawking, they were both on the floor, and he arranged their bedclothes so they were pretty much sharing a duvet. It got Laurentina aroused just thinking about them sleeping.

            “I hope we will get along very well on this mission,” Jaden said, his voice languid and seductive.

            “I hope so too,” Laurentina replied, dying of thirst. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter the Third_

Olivera was busy doing fouettes in the dorm. Although she was a navigator now, she always was, and always would be, a dancer at heart. It was just unfortunate luck that her city was conscripting all the young, able-bodied people to go to space, and her dance school was very eager to help them with that. She had been the first one to go. She didn’t even get a choice as to whether she were a fighter or navigator!

            So, even in space, she would have to practise. She was using the edge of the top bunk as a barre now, and was going through many different exercises. She was still good, despite not having practised for a few days. Thank the gods.

            Next, she moved on to doing some pirouettes. She did about six in a row, before her fighter entered the room. Embarrassed, she hurriedly stopped, but in doing so almost fell over. Her fighter just laughed.

            “I’ve been assigned to a fellow dancer!” he exclaimed.

            Olivera was so red she didn’t turn to face him.

            “Yeah…”

            “That’s great! Where did you train?”

            “The, umm, The International Rezzers School of Ballet,” Olivera said, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, then pushing it back, then repeating the process.

            “Oh my goodness! SAME! Isn’t it such a good school?”

            “Uh-huh…” Olivera murmured, literally so nervous around this godlike beauty.

            “Who taught you, then? Nurey? Poluney?”

            “Yury… You know… Yury?”

            “Of course I know Yury! We had…” He looked off with a suppressed, but noticeably cheeky, smile. “We had a great relationship.”

            Olivera understood what he was insinuating. What a playa.

            “So how come I don’t recognise you, if we train at the same school?”

            “I, uh, I don’t know,” Olivera replied, making sweater paws by stretching the sleeves of her nav uniform over her fingers. “I probably wasn’t as good as you or something…”

            “I don’t think so! From what I saw when I came in, you had some kickass pirouettes!”

            Olivera’s cheeks burned red again. This vision of glory, this divine dance master, said that her pirouettes were GOOD… She could now die happy.

            “Thank you!” she said, finally breaking through her shell of shyness. “Thank you so much!”

            “Anytime, chica,” he replied, giving her a wink that made her legs turn to jelly. “And what name do you go by these days?”

            “Serenity,” she replied, a little too eagerly.

            “That is _so_ much better than mine. _Endymion_. Like, am I some kind of French canapé or something?”

            Olivera giggled, cursing herself for sounding like a right knob. She shut up, and thence ensued an awkward silence.

            “Right, I think it’s time to have a shower,” Olivera finally said. “Gotta smell good for dinner and all that.”

            “You have fun now!” Bautista chuckled. Avec another wink. What a tease.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter the Fourth_

Johan was immediately impressed with his navigator. When he came in, he was busy on his tablet mapping out routes and devising all kinds of nav things. He obviously took his job seriously. That was a good sign. Johan did not want a navigator that was a slacker. His last one… Oh, Lord, that Jerry just did _not_ pull his weight.

            “Good evening, navvie!” Johan exclaimed, slapping him on the back and jumping next to him on his bunk. “Whatcha doing?”

            “I’m… umm… I’m working… Good evening…” he replied, a bit frazzled.

            “Don’t be so shy, navvie! I’m not THAT scary!”

            Johan turned off his nav’s tablet, making him swear rather rudely.

            “I hadn’t saved that, for God’s sakes!” he growled.

            “ _There’s_ the attitude! Brilliant! I’m glad that you have some fire in you!” Johan slapped him on the back again.

            “Jesus, I’m going to have to do all of that again. You realise how annoying that is?”

            “Sorry, navvie. I’ll help you do that later on. So, what’s your name?”

            “What, like, my real name?” his nav asked, returning to his previous nervous self.

            “No, no, no! You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

            “Yeah…” He avoided Johan’s gaze, and blushed just a bit. “My task name is Antinous.”

            “And I’m called Hadrian. It’s nice to meet you.”

            Johan swung out a hand, which was duly shaken. This navigator had a WEAK-ASS handshake, to be perfectly frank.

            “Why aren’t we allowed to tell each other our real names?” the nav asked.

            Johan shook his head and laughed.

            “We’re just not. Don’t question it.”

            “Alright, I won’t question it…” Carlo replied. “Still, Antinous is a fucking stupid name.”

            “It goes with Hadrian. You know Hadrian and Antinous?”

            “Uh, no…”

            “It’s a good story. Pretty much, Emperor Hadrian, the one that built that wall back in the 1st century AD, had a boyfriend, lover, fuckbuddy, whatever, called Antinous. They had great times, Antinous died under mysterious circumstances, Hadrian was distraught, built temples and stuff for him, had priests worshipping him, whatever. A gay love story for all the ages.”

            Inside, Carlo was dying of cuteness. He just wished he could have a boyfriend like that, gods dammit! Maybe Johan would provide that…? I mean, a long mission, sharing a bedroom, working in the same ship… That’s gotta be a breeding ground for romance! Carlo hoped so. He wanted to get hot and heavy with his fighter.

            But did Johan want to get hot and heavy with him? No, is the short answer. Not yet, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter the Fifth_

Gayle saw her fighter enter, and a moan escaped her body. This man was tall, had a perfect body, a well-trimmed beard and ‘tache, a strong nose, killer hair, and a sexy smile. He was even wearing _guyliner,_ and that was one of Gayle’s weaknesses. He looked like some hot highwayman or something.

            “Jesus, save my soul,” she whispered to herself, fighting the increasing wetness between her legs.

            “Hey, I guess you’re my new nav,” the fighter said, with a voice so otherworldly beautiful that she almost died.

            “Oh, hi, you must be my new fighter,” she replied, trying to act all coy. “What’s your task name?”

            “Cream,” he announced. He smirked at the sexual innuendo, and it made Gayle reach closer to full-on arousal.

            “I’m Strawberry. I guess we were just made for each other, right?”

            “Let’s hope so,” he said, adding a panty-dropping smile. Gayle felt the gushing waterfall of juice flowing from her vag.

            _I think I’m in love…_ she thought. _Or in lust… Eh, same difference._

~

“Hello there, my name is Cain,” the fighter, a dark- (and blue-) haired man said, holding a hand out for his navigator to shake.

            “It’s very nice to meet you, my name is Abel,” the nav replied. “I hope we will work very well together on this mission.”

            “I agree, Abel. I am very much looking forward to working with you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must shower; it has been a very long journey and I want to smell fresh when we go down and have dinner.”

            “That’s fine by me, Cain! As for me, I will be preparing some charts and doing extra work to make sure this mission goes smoothly.”

            “See you soon!”

Cain walked past Abel on his way to the bathroom, but accidentally tripped over and scratched Abel’s lip. It started to bleed.

“Oh, how inconvenient!” Abel remarked.

“I am very sorry, Abel!” Cain said. “Let me administer proper first-aid techniques!”

He used an antiseptic wipe to remove all bacteria from the wound, then dabbed it with a light gauze to remove all blood. White blood cells began their healing process, but a scar would remain.

“How unfortunate!” Abel exclaimed. “My youthful good looks remain no longer! No matter, I am wise enough to know that looks are not everything, and it’s what inside that counts.”

“I wholeheartedly agree, Abel. Now, time for my shower…”  



	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter the Sixth_

Sonja was really looking forward to meeting her fighter. She’d been assigned the task name of Ghost, and she’d heard that her fighter was called Phantom, so they HAD to be badass. If they were a guy, she was going to really enjoy this. She was hungry for a boyfriend. If they weren’t, she figured she’d have a good time. You know, just be good friends. And anyway, if it didn’t work out, she was still in fucking SPACE. Like, that compensates. A lot.

            She’d put her fighter on this pedestal so much that when he finally entered, she was somewhat disappointed. He was an average guy: not too tall, not too short, not too ugly, not too hot. He didn’t have a brilliant body, and his fighter uniform was rather ill-fitting. He wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped for.

            But, fear not, her fighter felt the same way. He was hoping for some blonde bombshell to take his breath away, and all he’d got was the blonde. But he wanted a straight-up pinup girl; curves, tits and ass with a fierce attitude to top it all off. He liked that. But, all those girls, in this day and age, ended up becoming iHookers on Earth, much to his disgust. He couldn’t really make a girlfriend out of one of those silicone bitches. (He disagreed with the idea of prostitution, which was ironic seeing as he considered becoming one to fund his struggling music career.)

            “Hi,” Sonja said.

            “Hi,” Jacobus replied.

            “I’m your navigator.”

            “I’m your fighter.”

            “I’m having a shower. Bye.”

            “Bye.”

            Sonja had hoped for so much more. But no matter, she was determined to find a hot piece of ass to make her own. Anything could happen on this ship… 


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter the Seventh_

As soon as her fighter entered, Matilda knew she was in for a world of crazy. This girl was five-ten, dyed hair, tons of piercings and a fighter unitard zipped up so low her vagina was almost visible. She gave Matilda a long, hard look, penetrating her with her heavily made-up eyes.

“You look good. Get on your bunk.”

“What?!” Matilda exclaimed.

“You heard me. Get on your bunk. I’ll do the rest.”

Matilda was too scared to argue, and was also giving in to the primal sexual urge that was wracking her body. Gods, she’d never wanted anyone so much, and she thought she was straight! She complied with her fighter’s request immediately.

“Tell me, what name should I scream out as my fingers are destroying your ass?” she said, in a growling, low voice.  

“Watson,” Matilda replied.

“Oh, you _know_ I will be your Sherlock, baby…”

Matilda sat back on her bunk and Alice began to remove her nav uniform. Soon, it was all off, and Alice made her lie head-down, ass-up.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass so hard you won’t be able to move for weeks…” she rasped.

She removed her fingerless gloves, as well as most of her clothes, then got out a huge pot of lube. She dipped her fingers into it, coating them in the thick, surprisingly glow-in-the-dark substance.

“Let’s start slow…”

She introduced one finger into Matilda’s tight asshole. The pleasure was intense, and Matilda fought the urge to squirm like a lunatic. Her finger went deeper and deeper inside, until the entire length had been used. She’d gone in slow, so Matilda could get used to the feeling, but reckoned she was ready for a one-finger pummelling. She withdrew it fast, incurring a sharp inhalation from Matilda, then plunged it back in.

Alice got a very nice rhythm going with just one finger. She had to reapply lube several times to get the full smooth effect, but she was going in and out like a piston and reckoned she’d stretched Matilda’s anus enough to add a second digit.

Thus, it was added. Two fingers gave a whole new world of pleasure, and Alice was pounding that asshole with a penetrative force that could rival the best gay porn star. Matilda was screaming “Sherlock, Sherlock, fuck me harder!” and Alice was fully intent on giving her just that.

Next it was time for some strategic widening. She introduced her other hand into the mix, gently pushing the first two fingers in and sort of levering the hole open. So much lube was used, but it was really worth it for the next load that Matilda would be penetrated by.

Alice’s entire fist slammed in, and she started twisting it to push it even deeper inside. Matilda was screaming like a maniac now, partly because of the pleasure and partly because of the erotic pain. Alice just kept going and going, eventually enveloping her entire hand in Matilda’s ripe ass cheeks. Then, she uncoiled her fingers and wiggled.

Matilda orgasmed there and then, squirting all over the bunk and doing the greatest O-face in the history of mankind. She almost ripped her asshole with the force of her pleasured convulsions, and Alice withdrew her hand for fear of this happening. It was dripping with lube, and Matilda’s anus was still visibly wide.

She collapsed on her face on the bunkbed, breathing heavily as the final waves of orgasmic rush subsided. How could she have never experienced sex as good as this? And with a woman! She’d never thought it. God, Alice’s fingers did so much more than a penis ever could have done.

“You are _such_ a good navigator,” Alice whispered, lying down next to Matilda and facing her (having just washed her hands of all the lube). “This mission is gonna be… perfect.”

Matilda, ass still throbbing and coated in lube, nodded.

“I am a fucking slut for you, Sherlock,” she replied. “Take me any day of the week. In the dorm, in the mess hall, in a starfighter… I want you so badly.”

“Now now now, Watson, don’t be so thirsty! I just gave it to you. You’re gonna have to wait a little longer…”

Alice’s fingers gently travelled round Matilda’s naked body, til she found her smooth pussy, then silently entered her moist vagina. Matilda moaned at this unexpected pleasure, but gave in as Alice expertly probed. She moved her hips to maximise the pleasure, until Alice was hitting her g-spot. When she was just reaching the cusp of climax, Alice withdrew.

“Please, finish me…” Matilda begged.

“Naughty girl, you have to call me mistress. You deserve… punishment.”

“Oh, mistress, I do. Give it to me, I am your bitch.”

Matilda had no idea where this sexual version of herself had come from, but she did not have time or means to think. Her brain was clouded by pure arousal.

“I think I know the best punishment,” Alice taunted, licking her lips so Matilda could see her pierced tongue. Oh, the thoughts that crossed her mind at that sight…

She got up and reached into her bag. Pulling out a vibrator, she smiled as she saw Matilda’s eyes light up.

“Oh, mistress…”

Alice languidly lubed it up, then switched it on. The quiet buzzing sound was enough to turn Matilda on even more, and she fought the urge to quickly wank to finish herself off.

“Lie on your back, bitch,” Alice ordered. Matilda immediately obeyed, even spreading her legs to give Alice perfect access to her cooch.

“Oh, put it in, please, mistress…” she groaned.

“You thirsty slut, calm down,” Alice replied, advancing on her pussy whilst caressing her thighs in a soothing manner. “I’ll put it in, but you aren’t allowed to orgasm. We’re going to dinner, and that vibrator is going to be working your vag, but you can’t. You just can’t. If you do, the punishment will be very severe. Only _I_ can make you cum.”

“Mistress, I promise I won’t,” Matilda replied.

Alice slid the vibrator in. This one had a little curve at the end to reach the g-spot, which made Matilda’s challenge that little bit harder. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, succumbing to the beautiful feeling, squeezing her thighs to move it to the optimal position. Alice secured it in by way of a specially-made set of ropes, then stood up to admire her nav.

“Now, let’s get ready to go to dinner.”

Matilda got off the bunk and dressed herself with Alice, each motion making the vibrator hit a different pleasurable spot. She had to pause to physically stop herself from cumming more than a few times, which made Alice smile.

“Do you want me to zip up your unitard, baby?” Alice asked, since Matilda was pretty much bent double from the intensity of the vibrator’s power.

Matilda nodded, and Alice went over. The zip started just above the area that’s normally covered with underwear, but Alice added to Matilda’s ‘punishment’ by letting her hand go right between her legs and gently stroke upwards, passing the vibrator _and_ her highly sensitive clit. She grasped the zip and did it up, sealing the vibrator in once and for all.

After their final garments had been donned, they left the dorm and went to the mess hall. And by the gods, Matilda had some crazy shit going on down there: her ass was burning from the intense fisting, but her vagina was singing from the sex toy jammed in there. It was going to be an interesting mealtime.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter the Eighth_

As all of this was going on, a decidedly less sexy meeting was occurring in the neighbouring room. Jeanne was in there, unpacking her stuff and putting it away in the dorm, when her fighter entered. She turned to glimpse who it was, and was pleasantly surprised to find it was a very hot older man. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with a chiselled, well-cheekboned face that spoke of a very mature air, and luscious, voluminous blond-ish hair. However, she caught a hint of a grimace cross his face when he saw her.

            _Who in the name of fuck is THIS?_ he thought, appalled. _Since when did they let women in?_

The misogynist thought disgusted him, and he vowed never to let such a sentiment enter his mind ever again.

            “Hey, fighter,” Jeanne said, trying to act like Olivia Newton-John at the end of _Grease_ where she reveals her sexy new look.

            “Good evening,” he replied, revealing to Jeanne a devastatingly hot Russian accent.

            “And what can I have the pleasure of calling you?”

            “My task name is Apollo, so I’m guessing yours is Hyacinth,” he said, absent-mindedly looking like he was picking crap from under his fingernails, even though he was wearing gloves.

            “You bet it is, Apollo,” she replied, really drawling out the last word like it was some kind of tasty semen on her tongue.

            “If you’re trying to flirt, I can tell you now that it’s not working. What are you, sixteen?”

            “Well, yeah…” she muttered, going red.

            “What the fuck?” he whispered to himself. Then he addressed her. “When did they start letting kids become navs?”

            “They’ve got this scheme, for gifted teenagers to train to become navigators or fighters. This is my first mission. And… sorry about the flirting. It was… kind of uncalled for.”

            “Fuck it was,” Seryozha assented. “I’m thirty-five. And I’m not interested in you.”

            That was his indirect coming-out. Jeanne didn’t get it.

            “Fair. If I were older, maybe!” she joked.

            Seryozha kind of nodded, kind of tried to hide the grimace which was making a big comeback on his face. He would never go for her. Aside from the fact that she was a girl—and Seryozha was guy-exclusive—she was also pretty much half his age. No, scratch that, literally half his age. Less than half his age. He’d gone out with many younger guys before, but this was pushing it. Anyway, he was here to do his mission, not fuck people. Even though that seemed to be their secondary duty, if Cain was to be believed.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter the Ninth_

Yura was fretting like fuck as to who his fighter was going to be. Talking with the other navs on the way to the ship, they seemed like a very mixed bunch. Some of them were right pigs and would work you to death and then make you do more, but some of them were lovely and would literally be perfectly compatible. Needless to say, Yura hoped for the latter.

            Then his fighter entered the dorm. Yura took a look at him, and he looked just as nervous. He generally had that timid look, with black hair over one eye, sorta looking at the floor, not making himself look tall and powerful. But cute. Yura thought he was _pretty_ hot.

            “Hi, I’m Phobos,” Yura said, almost letting his real name slip out. He didn’t even dare to look into his fighter’s eyes, because he was so weirdly nervous.

            “Nice to meet you, I’m Deimos,” he replied, his hand doing a weird little dance at his side as if he was debating whether or not to shake Yura’s hand. He eventually decided against it, and gave Yura a shy smile. And God, he had a really nice smile. Yura literally could not help but grin in return.

            “So, is this your first time in space?” Deimos asked. At that moment, Yura realised just how lovely his voice was. It was quiet— which was very endearing— but had a really sexy tone that he couldn’t quite place: kind of husky, kind of raspy, kind of gravelly, not too low, but not pre-pubescent high. He could listen to it all day.

            ( _Oh, shit, don’t get a crush on your fighter!_ thought Yura.)

            “Yeah, it is,” he finally replied, after taking far too long to digest Deimos’ words. “What about you?”

            He could barely talk. He was tongue-tied. Another symptom of falling like FUCK.

            “It’s my second time, actually. But I already have a feeling that this one’s gonna be better.”

            Yura smiled really wide, but it wasn’t like his normal kind of photo smile, it was more like a no-holds-barred childlike grin that spoke of his inner euphoria. Literally. Both the top and bottom teeth were visible. A proper smile. He was so glad that Deimos was on his bunk now and couldn’t see him looking like some kind of toddler receiving an ice cream.

            “I hope it is,” Yura said. “I’m not too bad a navigator, I don’t think.”

            Deimos suddenly appeared, upside down, in Yura’s view. He had kind of draped himself over the edge of his bunk so he could see him, and had almost caught Yura fanboying over his perfect fighter.

            “Not too bad, eh?” he joked. “Where were you trained?”

            “The St. Petersburg School of Navigation,” Yura replied, with the same amount of glorious sass.

            “St. Petersburg! That’s the accent! I knew it!” Deimos suddenly exclaimed.

            **(NB. I know that there is no St. Petersburg accent, but this is the future. There is. In the future. There is a St. Petersburg accent. And Yura has it. There. Worldbuilding, check. As you were.)**

            “What about my accent?” Yura said, smiling even more— and believe it or not, that was possible.

            **(NB. Worldbuilding continuation. The St. Petersburg accent sounds stupid. It’s like the Russian equivalent of a Geordie accent: sounds fucking ridiculous, and not even the people from the same bloody country can understand it. Sorry Yura. Anyway, back to story.)**

            “I was trying to place it… I knew you were Russian, but I couldn’t quite think. Of course, St. Petersburg. I should have known.”

            “Well, what about your accent? You sound kinda Russian as well…”

            Deimos took a deep breath, closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m Crimean,” he said.

            “Oh, suka blyad*, I’m sorry!” Yura exclaimed, aware he had just deeply offended him. You see, after the beginning of the whole Crimean bullshit in 2013, the area had gone from Ukrainian to Russian to Ukrainian to Russian and so on, until eventually they became their own independent country. And _very_ proud of that. Calling a Crimean a Russian was, at that time, almost like calling a gay person a fag.

            _*naughty Russian swear words!_

            Suddenly, a tone rang out on the intercom, and dinner was announced.

            “I guess we should go, then,” Deimos said, jumping down from his bunk.

            “Yep,” Yura replied.

            Deimos jokingly held out his arm as if he were taking him on a date, and Yura almost died. If that wasn’t flirting, he didn’t know what was. Except, thought the sensible part of his mind, it probably wasn’t, because he was just being a moron and Deimos _totally_ didn’t have a thing for him. Totally.


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter the Tenth_

So, Sasha Brankovič had finally made it onto the ship without chickening out. He’d even used a space-loo, and they weren’t even that bad. He was feeling rather accomplished. The only thing that could make this better is if his fighter turned out to be amazing.

            The gods of fate must have been feeling pretty nice, because Sasha B got his wish.

            His fighter entered the dorm, already exuding a badass and carefree attitude. He had the sexiest smile in existence, hands down, and paired with literally the most enticing and most gorgeous brown eyes ever meant that he could have a mullet and he’d still be hot. But, obviously, Sasha B kept drinking him in. This sight was too good to just glance at.

            So, let us describe the wonder that was Sasha B’s new fighter. Firstly, he had the loveliest skin tone. It was tan, but super rich and just so… flavourful. Not that he was a cut of meat, but there was some _tone_ there. Some multi-dimensional colour. Like a light caramel. Dripping down. Melting. Slowly. Yum.

            ANYWAY, so secondly he had a seriously strong nose game. It was a defining feature, but it wasn’t like massive. It was the perfect size, kind of like that classic Roman nose but not so pronounced. There was that bump on the bridge that made him look dignified as hell. And then, the lips. They were juicy. Sasha B wanted to kiss them there and then, in the least weird way possible. They were a perfect shape, naturally in a super subtle model-esque pout so he always looked RUNWAY READY and SO FIERCE (smize boy, smize), which accentuated his cheekbones. They were subtle too, only really appearing in the correct light. It gave him another layer of badassery.

            His hair also added to this look. It was deeply side-parted, beautifully voluminous, and flopping over his face in a messy sort of fringe-but-not-meant-to-be-a-fringe fringe. And one side was shaved. Yep, there was the badass touch. What a rogue. It looked also like it was dyed dark red, but his natural colour was so dark to begin with that it only added a really discreet red shine that came out in the light. He flicked his hair out of the way, and Sasha B momentarily caught a glimpse of a random bleached bit. There was probably a totally crazy story behind that, and he was dying to know. It was likely to be wild and maverick. O, that boy…

            Finally, Sasha B’s eyes rested on the money shot. He had a _nose ring._ A God damn nose ring. That was Sasha’s weakness. Especially on a nose as strong as his fighter’s… Shit, it looked good. Sasha B was melting on the spot.

            His eyes dared to travel downwards, and he caught a glimpse of what was probably a killer bod, and a very inviting bulge. Not a boner, just a nice reassuring mass that showed that this dude was well-endowed. Not that Sasha B wanted a taste or anything.

            “Done looking?” his fighter asked, flashing a lethal smile.

            Sasha B was so mortified that his fighter had realised he was checking him out. He blushed like fuck, then covered his face with his hands.

            “I’m sorry…” he managed to say.

            “It’s fine, but I think it means that I get to have a look at you, nav,” he replied, his smooth and sexy voice further confirming that he was the coolest guy in existence.

            Sasha B was even more embarrassed, but removed his hands from his face to enable him to be checked out. Seriously, the sexual tension was tangible.

            Now, to the fighter, this nav was a specimen with a capital S. He kind of considered himself too badass to be swayed by cute boys, but he couldn’t help it. Especially this one. He had sorta wavy blond hair, in the most inviting and hair-ruffly style ever, totally striking light blue eyes, the sort of nose that one wanted to boop every day, and an adorable smile _with dimples_. Who could even say no to that? Sasha Krayevsky liked what he saw. A lot. He even felt an attack of the butterflies, but he was too cool to admit that.

            “So, I’ve been told you’re Euryalus,” he said.

            Sasha B fumbled for his dogtag, since he actually didn’t remember what his task name was. But yes, it was Euryalus.

            “Um, yeah,” he replied. “Euryalus. It’s good to meet you.”

            Sasha K shook his hand (and both of them had great handshakes, by the way), and introduced himself as Nisus.

            “They’re really into the Classical gay couples, whoever makes up the names,” Sasha K noted. “The other fighters were saying how they’ve got task names of, like, Hadrian, and Apollo. They tryna set us up or something?”

            Sasha B’s eyes went as wide as the moon.

            “I wouldn’t think so… At least, I hope not… I wouldn’t wanna… You know… Oh, nothing.”

            His fighter laughed.

            “You’re _so_ great in social situations, aren’t you?”

            “Fuck you!” Sasha B replied, rolling with the confidence that had been inexplicably instilled in him. “It’s not every day that you have to share a room with a stranger in space!”

            “Get used to it, it’s what we do!”

            “Whatever,” Sasha B said, smirking, with a dismissive wave of the hand. “When I save your ass on this mission, you won’t be thinking I’m some pansy-ass bitch.”

            The banter was literally all that he could have hoped for, and he was so thankful that he was actually getting along with his fighter. Because we all know what that leads to… 


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter the Eleventh_

Next, we move to the room of another Sasha. He was very much looking forward to meeting his fighter, who seemed to be a little late. Dinner was so soon, and he hadn’t even arrived!

 _Such tardiness would not be accepted in the army,_ Sasha, whose former occupation was a soldier, mused. _This fighter is probably on his first mission, like me, and probably never even put on a uniform before this. Except, maybe, a KFC uniform._

His fighter entered, and Sasha realised just how wrong his previous ponderings had been. He was mature, imposing, with a military-grade posture and a deeply penetrating stare, reminding Sasha of the highest-ranking officers in his old regiment. He almost felt compelled to stand to attention and salute this man.

            “Good evening, navigator,” he said, even _sounding_ military as well.

            “Good evening,” Sasha replied with the same amount of formality. Normally he was really chilled and laid-back, since leaving the army, but now he felt compelled to return to that sort of air. “What task name have you been assigned?”

            “Fish,” his fighter said, a disgusted look crossing his face.

            “Mine is Chips. I suppose they are meant to be complementary. But I agree, ridiculous.”

            “So, navigator—”

            “Yes, sir?”

            His fighter cracked, and burst out laughing.

            “This isn’t the army*! Loosen up! I was just messing!”

            _*but it was the military, so Alyosha is a bit of a derp_

            Sasha the Soldier let out an awkward laugh, somewhat embarrassed at his conduct.

            “I don’t suppose you know the next protocol for the meeting of fighters and navs, do you?” Alyosha asked.

            “No…” Sasha replied.

            “Well, I hope you enjoy it. And if you don’t, I’m sorry, but it _is_ protocol. Lie on the bunk, face-down, please.”

            Sasha almost had a heart attack. His mouth dropped open all the way to the floor, and he let out a gasp that seemed to suck out all of the air from the room. He knew exactly what his fighter was insinuating, what he was about to do. To what crackpot paramilitary organisation had he signed up?!

            “You want to have sex with me?!” Sasha screeched, somewhat excited and somewhat shocked by the idea.

            “It’s how the teams are meant to bond, nav. I’m sorry, but we’ve got to do it.”

            “Alright…” Sasha mumbled, lying himself on the bunk with his ass up.

            Alyosha got right to work. He unzipped his unitard so he could remove the top to reveal his dick, and pulled down Sasha’s trousers to reveal his inviting asshole. It was so tight, like he’d never been fucked before. The sight of it actually really aroused him.

            Meanwhile, Sasha was awaiting penetration. He was very sexually inexperienced, and had certainly never been the bottom in anal before. Back in his army days, of _course_ there was frickle frackle between the men, but he was always on top. Always. Okay, he’d only done it like one time. He had no idea what to expect. Surely it would hurt so much!

            Alyosha got out his large pot of standard-issue lube (seriously, they gave a pot to every fighter when they went on duty, for this very purpose), then delved his hand in. He slathered the gloopy substance all over his erect penis, which he then slid into Sasha’s anus.

            “Holy fuck!” Sasha inelegantly exclaimed.

            Alyosha moved out a little, then thrust back in. Sasha screwed his eyes shut, not sure if he were enjoying this or not. On the one hand, he was having sex. On the other, he was having sex with a complete stranger. A male stranger. He wasn’t even sure if he swung that way, despite all his homosexual adventures.

            He reckoned he was enjoying it quite well, because his dick was rather hard. As Alyosha was pounding himself in and out of his ass, it just got harder and harder. Sasha submitted to the pleasure, focusing on the smooth and intense feeling of Alyosha’s stiff rod penetrating him deeply.

            Soon, Alyosha came inside of him, and Sasha gasped as the warm fluid flowed in. He also came, covering the bed sheets with his juice.

            Then, swiftly, Alyosha withdrew, zipped up his unitard and got off the bunk. Sasha quickly pulled his trousers up, after wiping his ass with a tissue as it was dripping with lube and cum. He didn’t even want to look Alyosha in the eye, for fear that he would detect how much Sasha actually liked their sex.

            “You were probably the best one I’ve ever had,” Alyosha noted, smiling very seductively.

            Sasha hated to admit it, but he got butterflies at that. He tried to regain composure, and replied in an appropriate manner.

            “And you’ve had a lot?”

            “Five years in this business, well over a dozen missions. I’ve had a fair few navigators in my time. You were undoubtedly the best.”

            “I… I don’t know what to say to that!” Sasha said, rather flustered.

            “You don’t need to say anything, because there’s the dinner bell.” He cocked his head in the direction of where the noise was coming from. “I hope you can walk.”

            With a wink, Alyosha led his newly consummated fighter to the mess hall.


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter the Twelfth_

The new fighters and navigators all arrived to dinner at wildly different times. Sonja and Jacobus came first, closely followed by Jeanne and Seryozha, then most of the rest, then Alice and Matilda. To seasoned veterans like Alyosha, it was obvious what had taken them so long, so he could tell who were the most… compatible pairs.

            Since they were still noobs, and somewhat reluctant to talk to one another, the fighters and navs sat at different tables. Some of the bolder among them did want to mingle, but they didn’t want to be the one invader on a table of all their opposites.

            Cain was strutting around and being annoying again.

            “So, who’s fucked their nav, eh?” he asked, striding over to where Seryozha was sitting and slapping his hands on his shoulders. He pointedly looked and him, and Seryozha rolled his eyes.

            “You don’t need to have all this preamble, Cain, I know you are just dying to tell us how well you did it,” he replied, sighing heavily at the end for extra IDGAF-ness.

            “Au contraire, Apollo! I am dying to know how well _you_ did it!”

            “I didn’t fuck my navigator, Cain. You were just going out on a limb in the hopes that you weren’t the only one, but I’m afraid to say that you probably were.”

            Alice Brown then stood up.

            “Get the fuck out, whore!” she exclaimed, smiling like a devilish villain. “I fucked my nav so good!”

            “There we go!” Cain said. “I like this chick. She knows how things work.”

            “I know how things work alright,” Alice declared. “I made her scream so much I’m surprised you all didn’t hear it.”

            “Sure you did!” challenged Cain, hoping to turn this into a boasting competition. “I fucked my nav so hard he’ll be walking funny for _weeks_! I almost tore his ass in two!”

            “Yeah, but I’m not even _done_ fucking my nav. I’m fucking her _right now_.”

            “And how’s that?”

            “Let’s just say I’ve got something else up there doing the work for me…”

            Everyone immediately cottoned on, and went ‘OHHHHHH!’ like she had just dished out a major burn.

            “Impressive,” Cain conceded. “What’s your name, then?”

            “Sherlock.”

            “Well, Sherlock, I think we’re gonna be real rivals in this mission. We’ll see who can dominate our navs the best, since all these other pussies aren’t hard enough.”

            “You must be pretty new here, Cain,” Alyosha interrupted. “you know, thinking that fucking your nav is something to be proud of, something out of the ordinary. I fuck mine every time I get a new one. It’s called protocol, honey; read the manual.”

            All the fighters turned to look at this new player in the boasting game. God, he was winning already.

            “How many navs have you fucked, then?” Cain retorted.

            Alyosha pretended to be thinking deeply.

            “I lost count around twelve,” he replied, dismissing it with a nonchalant wave of the hand. “It’s no big deal, Cain.” He said the last word like it was a turd in his mouth.

            “Fuck you,” Cain spat, realising that the fight was lost.

            “Yeah, Cain, get your head out of your ass!” the other fighters taunted.

            “Shut up, you guys haven’t even fucked your navs,” he shot back.

            At that moment, most of the fighters resolved to do just that. Jaden and Bautista began to think of exactly what dirty things they were going to do, while Matthias deliberated whether he was actually going to or not. Some of the others thought that since it was protocol, they _had_ to do it (and it wasn’t even protocol— that lying bastard Alyosha— it was more of a tradition amongst the fighters), and they weren’t too thrilled. Deimos, for one, did not really want to be so forward with his navigator, who seemed like such a sweet and innocent boy. Sasha K thought exactly the same, but within him was also a hint of _oh yeah, I get to fuck my nav!_ Johan resolved that he was absolutely not going to have sex with his navigator, unless one day he had feelings for him. Seryozha was holding down chunder at the thought of fucking that girl. Oh, Lord, did he really have to?


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter the Thirteenth_

“What do you think of your fighters, guys?” Abel asked, his ass a little sore from Cain’s pounding before dinner. In reply, many people looked away from him, either sighing pensively or groaning in disgust.

            “Don’t even go there,” Sonja said. “He is _so_ mediocre. And I don’t want no mediocre.”

            “Don’t worry,” Gayle assured her. “You’ll probably grow to like each other. I’m sure it was just the awkwardness of the first meeting making him seem worse than he really is. Who is your fighter, anyway?”

            “That one,” Sonja replied, pointing Jacobus out at the fighter table.

            Gayle inhaled sharply when she saw him. She had _no idea_ how she could be disappointed by that guy. He was a beauty.

            “What about you?” Abel asked Yura. “I hear you’ve got Deimos.”

            Yura tried not to blush, but it didn’t work. He covered his face with his hand, also in the hopes of concealing his grin and sigh.

            “Aww, it’s love at first sight!” Laurentina teased, poking Yura’s arm repeatedly. “You little hopeless romantic!”

            (You see, Laurentina was very thrilled by the idea of fighter/navigator love, especially when it involved two guys. She was a bit of a yaoi fan.)

            “No, I don’t like him like that!” Yura exclaimed, getting further and further down into the well of embarrassment. Laurentina gave him a superior kind of ‘I-know-exactly-what-you’re-feeling’ smirk.

            “Sure…” she said.

            “Look at, uh, Euryalus!” he replied. “He is fucking _staring_ at his fighter right now! That’s love at first sight!”

            Lo and behold, he was. Laurentina caught a glimpse of Sasha B, elbows on the table, hand on chin, looking intently at the fighters. He had a faraway, vaguely smiling expression, as if he were somewhat inebriated by the heady wine of passion. (What a beautiful sentence that was. Too bad I didn’t make it up.)

            When he noticed that Laurentina and Yura had mentioned him, he snapped out of it and got back into reality.

            “I wasn’t looking at my fighter,” he said, the lie incredibly unconvincing.

            Then Matilda interrupted the proceedings.

            “Guys… Did any of you… you know… have sex with your fighters?” Her voice was very quiet, partly because she was embarrassed and partly because she was straining not to let a flood of fluid cascade from her almost-climaxing vagina.

            Abel and Sasha the Soldier blushed like an actual bit of haemoglobin.

            “Is that a thing?” Olivera asked, a little too enthusiastically.

            “I bloody hope so,” Laurentina replied. “My fighter is a sexy piece of meat. I want his piece of meat if ya know what I mean.”

            She clapped and rubbed her hands together, thinking of all the delicious possibilities. Hopefully Misfit would get in the mood and fuck her silly later tonight. Almost like the dessert after this dinner.

            Some of the other navs, too, were excited. Olivera was hoping that her fighter would bang her to oblivion, while Gayle hoped that hers would do it like a real gentleman. Jeanne could not wait to break the news to Seryozha, who would then have to have sex with her (her plan all along). Sasha B and Yura both got immediately nervous at the thought, slightly shocked and a lot excited. Carlo couldn’t wait to get his fighter inside of him. Sonja, unlike everyone else, was horrified. She did not want that man anywhere near her.

            Soon, everyone finished eating, and they all went back to their dorms for an eventful evening.


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter the Fourteenth_

Jaden and Laurentina knew exactly what they were going to do as soon as they closed the door.

            “I suppose you heard of the protocol, then?” Jaden asked sexually.

            “You bet I did,” Laurentina replied, giving her eyelashes a seductive flutter.

            “And we wouldn’t want to go against protocol, would we?”

            “Oh, definitely not…”

            Jaden grabbed her ass and pulled her in, fondling her as he kissed her neck. He undressed her all the way down to her underwear, then removed all his clothes. Surveying Laurentina’s bod, he liked what he saw.

            Jaden lay on the bed, resting himself against the wall. Laurentina advanced on him, teasing him by pulling at her underwear as if she were going to take it off. Jaden got incredibly hard at this excellent foreplay, which in turn got Laurentina very aroused. She unhooked and cast off her bra, revealing to Jaden some very perky nipples.

            She got down to his level, on her hands and knees, almost straddling him. Jaden got a squeeze of her tits, which he enjoyed immensely. Laurentina stepped back for a moment, removed her delicate lace panties, threw them away, then got on his dick.

            They both moaned at the first contact, then Laurentina moved herself into the best position to bounce up and down. She didn’t bother starting slow— no, she started vigorously pumping like she was doing triple-speed squats, getting Jaden’s stiff dick right in her g-spot. She grunted with the effort, making Jaden so hot he let out a feral moan.

            As she rode his dick, Jaden felt all the way up and down her smooth body. He grasped her thighs, caressed her shapely hips, pulled her by her shoulders so she was closer to him. Laurentina was in the throes of ecstasy, and could not help her wild cries.

            “Oh my God! We forgot a condom!” Jaden screamed. “I’m about to cum! QUICK!”

            Laurentina leapt off just in time. As soon as she was out of the way, a squirting stream of semen gushed from his penis, looking rather like a fountain. This was very arousing, but she did not orgasm because of the abruptness of their finishing.

            “I’m sorry, Scarlett,” Jaden said, looking like he was about to burst into tears. “I failed, FAILED! You didn’t even orgasm!”

            “It’s okay, baby,” she replied, lying down next to him and wiping the cum away. “Next time.”

            “I look very much forward to that time,” he smiled.

~

Meanwhile, the indomitable Matthias Babcock was also making love to his navigator. Since he was well-versed in the ways of anal sex, he decided to impart this knowledge onto Gayle by turning her over and filling her up with his cock. He truly was brilliant at this sexual practice, and had Gayle moaning as soon as he went in. He thrust so hard that her ass burned, and she swore that if he went any faster her cheeks would rip in two. Not that she would even mind, the amount of pleasure she was feeling right now.

            At this time also, Bautista was seducing Olivera. He was more into guys, he had to admit, but he felt something for Olivera that he just couldn’t ignore. Using sweet and sexy words, he got her moist, then lay her back on the bunk and undressed her bottom half. He was slightly freaked out at the sight of her vagina, since he hadn’t really been near one in a long time, but he swallowed his fear and popped on a condom.

            As Bautista was entering, Matthias was withdrawing. He had just ejaculated deep inside Gayle’s anus, and Gayle had just had a monumental orgasm. They were both exhausted after frolicking so fiercely, and Gayle could barely walk. She pretty much limped to the bathroom to clean the cum out of her ass, barely able to touch the hole because it was so sore. Matthias truly was an anal master.

            In the other dorm, Olivera and Roberto were right in the middle of masterful sex. His dick was so long it reached her g-spot with no problem, and she was so wet he slid in and out like a well-oiled machine. His dancer hips really came in handy, what with all that thrusting and whatnot.

            “Oh, Endymion, oh…” she moaned, grabbing his shoulders and sinking her nails into his flesh to draw him closer to her. “You’re so good…”

            Bautista felt like he needed to add some romance into this, so he threw his arms round her neck and started to make out with her. He got his thrusts and his kisses in sync, making the love-making very sensual and intimate. It was almost like they were long-time lovers. Oh, how Olivera wished that were true…

~

Matilda could almost not go on. It had been an immense struggle to get through dinner with that vibrator pounding her g-spot, let alone act normal. She had been oddly quiet, since she knew that if she even opened her mouth all that would come out would be moans. It was too much, and she was so afraid that she would just explode in a fountain of fluid.

            Thankfully, Alice took her back to the dorm in good time. She saw the strained look on Matilda’s face and smiled, knowing that she was just ready to cum. She made Matilda lie on her back, her legs up, to get a good view of the vibrator. She was actually shaking with the effort of not having a wild orgasm.

            “Now, baby, are you ready to cum? Have you learned your lesson?”

            “I have, mistress, I really have…” Matilda replied, her voice quiet and moaning.

            Alice bent down and untied the ropes that were securing the vibrator in. Once the pressure on the toy was lessened, it moved slightly, pleasuring a different spot and making Matilda almost implode.

            “Please…” she groaned. “Please, mistress…”

            Alice deftly slid out the vibrator, which was covered in juice. The feeling of it leaving her body made Matilda suddenly lose control, and she squirted all over Alice and all over the bunk. Alice chuckled, watching the fountain cascade out of Matilda’s vagina.

            “Good girl,” she said. “You definitely did well today.”

            “Thank you, mistress,” Matilda replied, through waves of intense orgasmic pleasure.

            Once she had finished, Alice lay down next to her, and went at it all the way through the night with fuck after fuck after fuck.


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter the Fifteenth_

Back in Chon’s dorm, they were having a serious discussion.

            “You know I am meant to fuck you, right?” Johan said.

            “Oh, goodness, you are, aren’t you?!” Carlo replied. “Just a second, then…”

            He got up and took off his outermost layers.

            “I don’t have to if you don’t want to, navvie!” Johan exclaimed. “Really, it’s not mandatory!”

            “Are you sure? It’s fine if you want to, truly it is…”

            Carlo thought he sounded a little too eager.

            “Honestly, if you don’t want to, then we won’t, Antinous! You don’t need to please me!”

            “But if you want to have sex with me, then—”

            “No no, don’t worry! I don’t want to have sex with you!”

            “Really? Sure? I honestly will do whatever you want, I don’t mind…”

            At this moment, Carlo began to undress. He managed to get half-naked, so Johan caught a glimpse of his hot bod. Seriously, he was BUILT. It almost swayed him, but his moral compass prevailed and he kept his dong in his pants.

            “Antinous, it’s really okay!” he assured him, trying not to stare too hard at his rock-hard abs. “You don’t need to!”

            Carlo decided to give it up. Sadly, Johan was not going to fuck him today. He sheepishly put all his clothes back on, not daring to look his fighter in the eye, and rushed into the shower without a word.


	16. Chapter 16

_Chapter the Sixteenth_

“I suppose you heard of the…” Deimos began.

    “Yeah…” Yura replied.

    There was silence for many moments. Both of them were turning over the fact in their mind that they would have to have sex. They were not so thrilled. Yura was absolutely petrified of doing something wrong somehow, while Deimos was terrified to corrupt this seemingly pure kid’s innocence (and asshole). Yes, he had done a mission before, but he had no idea that one _had_ to have sexual relations with their nav. He’d thought it was just Cain being horny. But apparently it was protocol, and Deimos resented that very much.

    “Okay, so you gotta get on your hands and knees… like, on the bed, right here. No, no, wait— get naked first,” Deimos stammered, his palms getting clammy already.

    “Shouldn’t I, like, be hard?”

    “Be what?” Deimos asked, since Yura’s stupid-ass accent made the word almost incomprehensible.

    “Hard, like… _hard._ An erection. You know.”

    “Oh! Perhaps, yes. Maybe, could you do that?”

    “Yeah, but… I think you should do it too,” Yura suggested. “Cos, you know, you’ll be the one… entering.”

    “Okay, let’s… um, let’s get hard.”

    They turned their backs to each other, faces burning red, and wanked just enough to get a nice stiff boner. Both of them were not even that turned-on, since the whole experience was just turning out to be ridiculous.

    “I’m ready,” Deimos said, taking off his clothes to reveal his mediocre erection.

    “Just one second…”

    Yura bombarded his mind with thoughts of one of his incredibly passionate and sexual previous relationships, which was with a very agile and virile ex-navigator from the fleet, and his dick got as hard as the stones of Stonehenge. He then turned back around and got naked.

    Deimos tried not to audibly inhale at the sight of his navigator’s perfect figure, and his dick began to throb impatiently. His genitals were certainly in it, but his head was not. He just could not get into the right mindset. He was far too embarrassed and/or scared.

    “Now you get on the bed,” he said.

    Yura did so, making sure his ass cheeks were spread wide. He hoped that Deimos didn’t notice his gaping hole, from all those years of rough (and partially underage) anal fucking.

    (Don’t judge about the underage anal fucking. Yura slightly knew what he was doing.)

    But, alas, he did.

    _Holy fucking Lenin! You could fit a cannonball up there!_ he thought, his mouth open wide. (Not as wide as Yura’s asshole, of course.)

    “Jesus…” he accidentally said out loud.

    Yura went as red as if the Red Sea were as red as its name, then went “Oh, God…”

    “Sorry, I’ll shut up,” Deimos muttered, lubing up his dick. He looked pitifully at it, reckoning that you could fit about three of them in Yura’s hole before it was even half full.

    “In I go…” he said, after saying that he would shut up.

    He popped his dick in, which thankfully took up more space than he’d previously thought. Yura inhaled sharply, sounding like he was enjoying it but trying not to show it on the outside. Deimos made a similar noise.

    Very, _very_ awkwardly, he began to thrust. He got right in there, since his dick was quite long and Yura’s anus was a large labyrinth, meaning that they both got lots of pleasure. They hated this fact, because they just felt so bad for enjoying having sex with each other. They just felt so weird about it. Gods, they’d only known each other for a few hours, and now Deimos was inches deep inside him!

    His nerves got so in the way that he began to go soft again. He withdrew and tried to get into the right mindset, cursing everything for his terrible misfortune. He jerked off a little bit, getting the blood flowing again, then stuck his cock back in.

    Yura was also not doing great in the erection department. Of course, he was feeling pleasured by this sex, but it did not reach all the way up to his head and cloud his mind with delicious passionate thoughts. It was like being in an odd sort of limbo, and Yura loathed the experience.

    Both of them tried to imagine that the other was one of their previous partners that they’d had a good time with, in order to get a bit more aroused. When that didn’t work, on account of bad memories of exes being recalled, they both imagined one of their celebrity crushes. Deimos imagined he was fucking the ripe ass of his favourite porn star, while Yura imagined that the scrumptious penis of a very famous historical beauty, the divine Vasiliy Makarov, was penetrating him.

    This method actually worked, and they felt themselves reaching a level of arousal somewhere near an orgasm. Sadly, their minds were not strong enough to take them all the way to the end, because just as they were about to climax, they remembered who was the one having sex with them. Instead of a mind-blowing orgasm, they just came in a small, pathetic dribble.

    “Oh my God, that was such a failure…” Deimos said to himself, cleaning up and then hiding his mortified face.

    Yura uttered a rather colourful phrase common in St. Petersburg, and tried to forget about the disastrous experience.

    “Christ, I am so sorry about that,” Deimos said.

    “It’s… it’s alright,” Yura replied, in no mood to talk.

    “I won’t do it again… Or, if I do, next time it will be better… I don’t know…”

    “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just move on.”

    “That sounds like a good idea.”

     They did not speak to each other for the rest of the evening, and got on with their work in the dorm in silence.


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter the Seventeenth_

Seryozha walked into the dorm to find Jeanne sprawling across her bunk, giving him bedroom eyes. He jumped back, afraid of what was to happen next.

            “Good evening, Apollo,” she said.

            “Hello, navigator,” he replied, trying to go about his evening business as normal.

            “Do you know what time it is?” she asked him in a very sexual way.

            Now, Seryozha wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what she was talking about. He wasn’t, however, going to be annoying and tell her the time or anything. He simply rolled his eyes.

            “I know I’m _meant_ to fuck you, but listen, mate, it’s not happening. You are a child. You are underage.”

            “I’m sixteen! That is totally of the age!”

            “Only with someone under eighteen. Which I am not. So, it’s illegal. It’s statutory rape, or whatever it’s called. I will not have sex with you.”

            “But _pleeeeeeeeease…”_ Jeanne begged. “Don’t be so uptight! They wouldn’t make it protocol if they were worried about underage teens getting fucked…”

            “That is _disgusting._ I am not going to fuck you. Get off me!”  
            Jeanne was now trying to unzip his unitard. He tried to slap her away, but she just started to remove his other garments.

            “Piss off, Hyacinth!” he exclaimed, pushing her away.

            “You know you want this…” she purred, taking off the covering on her top half to reveal her teenage breasts. Seryozha immediately averted his eyes, feeling like a right pedophile.

            “PUT THEM AWAY!” he shrieked. “JESUS!”

            Jeanne did not listen to him, and did the exact opposite: stripped down even more. She took off everything and pounced on him, whispering sexual words like she was a prostitute trying to nab a client. And Seryozha had had enough experience with prostitutes to be able to resist their advances.

            “Get the _fuck_ off me!”

            Jeanne was now rushing to undress him, and he punched her in the face to get her out of the way. She screamed, then fell backwards.

            “Fine then,” she snapped. “If you won’t fuck me this way…”

            Her hand travelled down to her pussy, then she started vigorously rubbing her clit. She started moaning at her own delicious touch, making Seryozha incredibly uncomfortable.

            “Could you do that somewhere else?” he asked through gritted teeth, trying not to gag.

            Jeanne only replied with an erotic squeal as her fingers entered her vagina. She pounded her wet pussy, thrusting in and out, wiggling, jiggling, everything. In the midst of the intense masturbation, her ponytail came undone, making her hair cascade wantonly down her face and shoulders. Her eyes were half-shut, her mouth was open and it was evident that she was very much pleasured. Seryozha tried to turn away, but wherever his eyes went, she had moved there.

            Then, she reached the height of pleasure, and began to have an orgasm. Her O-face was burned into Seryozha’s mind forever, and her screams would haunt his ears for the rest of his days.

            “APOLLO, FUCK ME!” she hollered, as juice began to flow out of her vag. “OH, OH MY GOD! APOLLO! OHHHHHH!”

            She grabbed him and dug her nails into his flesh as she was wracked by waves of beautiful orgasm. He attempted to escape, but she was incredibly strong. Whenever he moved, her grip just got tighter.

            “Please… Please stop…” he begged, now desperate and close to breaking down.

            Jeanne’s orgasm finally finished, and she remained there, breathing heavily. After a short breather, she went at it again.

            “STOP!” Seryozha cried.

            “No… fucking… way…” she replied.

            “Oh my God. Fine. I’ll just lie here and you can suck my dick. Jesus. You win.”

            Jeanne immediately removed her hand from her clitoris and smiled as wide as the Atlantic Ocean.

            “For real?”

            “Yes… Oh my fucking God…”

            He was literally so done.

            Jeanne got him to lie on his back on the bottom bunk. He picked up his tablet and started to do some work, while Jeanne pulled down his unitard. His flaccid (but monstrous) penis was exposed, and Jeanne cracked her knuckles and got to work.

            She jerked him off a little, to get him to go hard, and once this was done, she put his dick right in her mouth. Seryozha grimaced as her moist, female lips clamped around his shaft, and tried with all his might to focus on his work.

            Jeanne was having a great time. She’d never seen a dick bigger than this glorious man’s, and she was enjoying deep-throating it. The entire length was in her mouth now, and she swore the head was somewhere around her large intestinal area. A few moans escaped her body, since she was seriously enjoying this, while Seryozha kept gagging.

            _Why the fuck am I doing this?_ he thought, dismayed that his homosexual penis was erect at the touch of a disgusting teenage girl.

            He continued to work on his tablet. Suddenly, it turned off, making him lose all his work. All of it. When it turned back on, there was nothing there.

            “ _JESUS FUCKING LORD!_ ” he bellowed, almost chucking his tablet on the floor. The anger he felt at this made his dick suddenly go limp, and Jeanne got a nasty surprise.

            “Apollo! What the hell? Don’t you like BJs?”

            He did not reply, because he was furiously beginning to redo everything he had lost (which was literally everything).

            “Hmm… time for a handjob, then,” Jeanne muttered.

            She started to give him a wonderful handjob. She was honestly a natural at this, and very soon he came. The cum squirted out everywhere, including a large amount on his tablet. It got inside of it, causing it to break completely.

            “ _FUCK!!!_ ” he yelled, throwing his tablet across the room. “THIS CANNOT GET ANY WORSE!!!”

            He wiped a blob of cum off his nose, then made Jeanne clean up the rest. This was probably the worst night of his life.


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter the Eighteenth_

The next day, the real stuff began. The ship was well on its way into enemy space, and in the morning Commander Milankovic, the head of this mission, brought them into the briefing room to tell them what was going to happen.

    For some reason, Commander Milankovic had decided to only invite the fighters to this briefing. It was probably due to his deep-seated hatred of navigators, after one had buttfucked him when he was drunk back in the day, but he had always sworn he was over that.

    “Good morning, fighters!” he said, getting them all to sit down. “I trust you all know why we are here?”

    There was silence (for once).

    “I’ll take that as a yes. Now, gentlemen—”

    “And ladies, you pig!” Alice interrupted.

    “Sorry, my little friend. Ladies and gentlemen. I must warn you now that this is a very dangerous mission, and we need only the steeliest dispositions to make it a success. What we must do is penetrate deep—”

    All the immature fighters started chuckling.

    “You childish babies!” Commander Milankovic cried. “ _ANYWAY,_ so we must penetrate deep into enemy space and destroy their main stronghold, a fortress known only to us as The Swamp. We need the four best fighter and navigator combinations to infiltrate and kill their leaders, thereby bringing the whole system down. We will be watching you from now on, very closely, to see who is the best. Impress us. Dismissed.”

    So, off everyone went.

    “Abel and I are going to be the best, obviously!” Cain exclaimed. “We work together _so_ well!”

    “Just cos you fuck him doesn’t mean you’re the best!” Jacobus, who had not spoken much at all, piped up.

    “Shut the hell up, you pansy bitch! You and your ugly-ass nav aren’t going to even come close to us!”

    Jacobus couldn’t reply to that, since he kind of agreed. They were not compatible at all, and it was _so_ awkward. Last night, in the dorm, they didn’t even speak. They both just looked at each other, shook their heads, then busied themselves with their own separate things. God, it was horrible. He wished that he could change his nav to someone better. Someone… hotter.

    Later that day, the fighters and navs had a second briefing. The navigators were briefed by Lead Navigator Keeler, while the fighters had Lead Fighter Encke.

    Yura liked Keeler as soon as he saw him. He cursed himself for being so thirsty, but he just could not resist. Keeler was so friendly, charming and very good-looking. He had that androgynous vibe, which Yura was actually obsessed with. Keeler’s hair was just… ugh, perfect. So shiny and voluminous and enviably long. That must have taken a lot of work and a lot of conditioner.

    For the whole briefing, Yura was melting at the sound of Keeler’s melodious and soft voice. At the end, Keeler asked if anyone had any questions— and Yura did— so he asked it and became even _more_ jealous at Keeler’s voice at the sound of his own harsh and grating accent. Why was Keeler such a perfect being?

    “Phobos, what the fuck are you doing?” Keeler asked, noticing that Yura was slumped over the table, looking to be having a daytime wet dream. Except instead of staring off into the distance, he was staring at Keeler’s dick.

    “Whaaa, woah, what?” Yura spluttered, getting back into reality.

    “If you’re going to be as distracted as that for the whole mission, I will kick you off this ship with no hesitation. Alright?”

    _OMG KEELER ANGRY OH MY HEART!!!!!!!_ Yura thought.

    “Yes, sir,” he said, hoping he sounded far more normal than inside his mind.

    “I’ve got my eye on you, Phobos. You seem a little… unorthodox.”

    “Excuse me?!”

    As radiant and amazing the Lead Navigator was, he was acting kind of douchebaggy.

    “I don’t know what it is, Phobos, but you seem a little… a little strange, that’s all.”

    “What the fuck are you talking about?” Yura cried.

    “I dunno… I’m just not so sure about you.”

    “You fucking bitch! What the actual _fuck_ are you saying right now?”

    Keeler burst out laughing (which Yura found sexy even though he was really pissed off).

    “You should be a fighter!” he exclaimed. “With an attitude like that!”

    Yura had literally never been so annoyed.

    “You’d better watch your back, you bastard,” he spat. “I am going to _kill_ you for screwing around with me like that.”

    Keeler handed him a piece of paper, the title of which read “REQUEST TO SWITCH POSITIONS FROM FIGHTER TO NAVIGATOR, OR VICE VERSA”. Yura read it, screwed it up and chucked it on the floor.

    “I don’t even know what the fuck just happened, but you are such a weirdo,” he declared as he stormed out of the room.

    There was silence for a few moments, then Matilda spoke up.

    “Sir…?”

    “Yes, Watson?”

    “What _did_ just happen?”

    Keeler chuckled maniacally.

    “Just having fun. The kid looked easy to pick on. Winding him up was hilarious!”

    “That’s not very nice, sir!” Sasha B exclaimed.

    “I’m the Lead Navigator. I can do whatever the fuck I like. Dismissed.”

    The navs weren’t entirely sure what they thought of Keeler. Well, Yura knew _exactly_ what he thought of Keeler. That whore.


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter the Nineteenth_

Yura was tramping down the corridor, having just dramatically exited the navigators’ briefing. He was still fuming, and he swore if anyone crossed him now he would beat them into the next life.

            A tall and striking-looking fighter was ambling down the corridor in Yura’s direction.

            _Do NOT speak to me, do NOT speak to me…_ Yura thought.

            “Where’s the rest of your lot then, nav?” he casually asked.

            As sexy as his voice and face were, Yura was in no mood to make small talk. However, he found this fighter quite hot, so he got over the slightly patronising tone of his comment and swallowed his anger.

            “Keeler pissed me off, so I left,” he replied, as calm as possible.

            “Oh really? You feisty motherfucker!”

            Yura was slow to reply, since he was mesmerised by the fighter’s godly cheekbones.

            “Oh… oh yeah… maybe…”

            “Maybe you should join the fighters!” he jokingly suggested.

            “Don’t even go there,” Yura replied, smiling, but inside fiercely quelling the spark of fury that had just ignited within his breast. “Keeler suggested that also. Fuck that man.”

            The fighter smirked (fuck that overused fanfic word) at the young navigator’s hot temper (and hot face). He certainly had an attitude. An attractive attitude. Hot damn, he would take this nav over Jeanne any day…

            ( _Umm, that is very weird,_ he thought.)

            “So who are you, then?” the fighter asked.

            “I’m Yur— no, wait, no. I’m Phobos. Fuck.”

            (His tongue was well and truly tied.)

            “Well, it’s great to meet you, Phobos,” he said, holding out a hand for him to shake. Yura duly shook it, dying inside because he was touching this beautiful work of art. Seriously, his cheekbones had surely been sculpted by the gods!

            “Who are _you,_ then?” Yura asked.

            “I’m Apollo.”

            “The god of love, eh… Very interesting…” He paused for a second, his mouth dropping open all the way to the floor. “Oh, wait. Oh my fucking God. No. Ignore me. Fucking ignore me. I am so stupid. Jesus bloody Christ. Fuck. FUCK.”

            He was as red as a centurion’s helmet crest, and covered his face so the fighter would not see.

            _HOW STUPID CAN YOU GET, YURA? SERIOUSLY? This is why you NEVER try to flirt._

The fighter was beside himself with laughter by now, partly amused by and partly falling for this adorable navigator. God, how he wanted to get in his pants!

            “I am gonna go now,” Yura said, too embarrassed to continue the conversation.

            “See you soon, Phobos,” he replied as Yura turned to leave.

            Yura’s heart imploded. This fighter… he’d spoken Russian. RUSSIAN. His native language. And oh, so well… Yura hadn’t even worked out that the fighter was Russian, but now it was clear. He spoke it so nicely. So smoothly. So eloquently. And he’d only said a few words. Yura totally wanted him to speak a little more. Or a lot more. In the bedroom.

            _You. Are. STRANGE._

Yura scolded himself for getting a crush on _another_ fighter. He had to be devoted to Deimos! He couldn’t complicate his life with someone else! As hot as he was, it just wouldn’t do. He felt like Bella Swan in that old novel he had pretended to read in secondary school. 


	20. Chapter 20

_Chapter the Twentieth_

“One, two, three, four…” Gayle muttered, lifting her body up and down by her arms. She was busy in the gym, keeping her fitness up, enjoying the peace and quiet. No one else was there, so she could use all the equipment without waiting.

            Moving on to doing some squats, she noticed a fighter entering. Her stomach did flips at the sight of this very good-looking specimen, who, when he took off his shirt, could only be compared to the youthful Apollo, when he comes down from Olympus in his blazing chariot, settles in a shaded wood amongst his Muses, and plays on his lyre while the sun shines over his divine body. He plays beautiful melodies as the Muses crowd around him, but he is taller and more radiant than all of them. At this sight, his mother Latona’s heart is gladdened. It was thus that Jacobus looked.

            “Hey, nav,” he said, in a cool and sweet voice. “You’re not actually meant to be in here, you know.”

            “Really?” Gayle exclaimed. “Oh, I am so sorry!”

            She stopped doing her squats and grabbed her towel.

            “Sorry, darling. This is the fighters-only gym. The nav’s gym is one deck up.”

            “I am _so, so, so_ sorry!” she said again. “I’ll go right away!”  
            She rushed off to the navigators’ gym and continued her workout, while thinking of that sexy fighter. He was Ghost’s fighter, wasn’t he? Phantom? Yeah, that was the one. God, he was lovely. She wanted him. She loved her fighter too, of course, but this one… Wow, this one had something goin’ on. What a beaut. WHAT. A. BEAUT.

            _She was perfect…_ Jacobus thought, as he ran on the treadmill in the now empty gym. _Everything I want… Everything!_

It was true. Jacobus wanted a tall, blonde bombshell who _wasn’t_ an iHooker, and had some panache about her, and she was it. She was the incarnation of everything he desired. Long, shiny blonde hair, hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, a sexy figure and tits… Yum. He wanted a taste of that navigator for sure.

            However, she probably wasn’t into him. That feisty look in her eye told Jacobus that she was so hard to get, and probably liked to really mess with men before even considering fucking them. She was probably the sort to lead people on just for the hell of it. Jacobus, with his startling mediocrity, thought he had no chance.

            That, my friends, is called dramatic irony.


	21. Chapter 21

_Chapter the Twenty-First_

“Enemy ship spotted, sir!” Abel, sitting around in the nav’s techy room, shouted. “Approximately 10,000 metres, north-west of the starboard corner!”

            “Fuck! We need a ship to take them down!” Keeler bellowed. “None of you idiots are with your fighters!”

            Keeler slammed his finger onto the button that let him speak over the intercom, and screamed: “IF ANY FIGHTER AND NAVIGATOR COMBINATIONS ARE TOGETHER, REPORT TO DOCKING STATION IMMEDIATELY! ENEMY SHIP APPROACHING AT TEN THOUSAND METRES!”

            The only fighter and nav pair that was together was the two Sashas. They heard this message, and rushed to the docking station without a word. When they got there, no one else was around, so they leapt into their starfighter.

            This was Sasha B’s first time even inside a real one, since the place where he was trained was completely _shit_ and did not prepare him for the real deal. (He only got onto this mission because the training school was buddies with Commander Milankovic and did a dodgy deal, Cold War-like, to get some of their pilots in.)

            He sat in his seat and strapped himself in, then freaked out at the large array of instruments around him. What the fuck _was_ any of this stuff?

            _BREATHE, SASHA. BREATHE. You know what this is._

After some careful inspecting, he realised that he knew a lot of what these instruments were. They weren’t in familiar places, but at least he had a vague idea of how to work them. He tried to press something, but the computer said “Name, please.”

            “Sasha— oh, fuck, no, Euryalus.”

            Sasha K had heard this, and smiled at the thought that his nav was a fellow Sasha.

            _Sasha & Sasha… I like the sound of that, _he thought. _Oh, no, wait, that is fucking weird._

            “‘ _Sasha— oh, fuck, no, Euryalus_ ’ was not recognised,” the computer stated. (It had repeated a recording of him saying that, by the way.) “State name again.”

            Sasha B thus gave the correct name, and the instruments were unlocked to his use.

            “HURRY THE FUCK UP!” Keeler screamed in his ear, through Sasha B’s headset.

            “Sorry, sir!” he replied, trying to find a way to turn the volume down.

            He lifted off and zoomed out of the docking station, spotting the enemy ship on the radar. Since the navigator sat facing the back, at the back of the starfighter, he couldn’t actually see it in person, but the radar was photorealistic so he had a good idea of what was going on.

            Sasha K, however, could see the ship right up in his face. It was incredibly close, and beginning to fire on them. It hit the starfighter, which shook violently and span off-course.

            “Jesus Christ!” Sasha B exclaimed, struggling to bring the starfighter back.

            “SHUT UP AND DESTROY THE SHIP!” Keeler yelled. (Encke also said the same thing to Sasha K.)

            “Nisus, fire!” Sasha B shouted, sounding way more aggressive than he’d wanted.

            “Yes, Euryalus!” he shouted back, slightly amused that his nav was telling him how to do his job.

            He began to fire rapidly on the ship, the starfighter’s more powerful artillery severely damaging it in moments. One wing flew off as it exploded, and it smashed into the front of the starfighter. Showers of sparks poured out of some of the instruments, and small bits of debris pinged off. A severed button caught Sasha K right in his (very _strong_ ) eyebrow, and he swore like a sailor.

            He renewed his fierce fire, and soon the ship was destroyed. Sasha B swung them round and they made their way back. When they landed in the docking station, all the fighters and navs were there to greet them, and ran up to their ship. They got out and were mobbed with bro-hugs by most of their comrades.

            “That was fucking _awesome_!” Jaden exclaimed, slapping Sasha K on the back.

            Most of the fighters said something to this effect. Except Cain. He stood away from everyone, arms crossed, scowling. How _dare_ that fucking Nisus steal his thunder. How _dare_ he take down the first enemy ship. That’s some serious honours right there. He was bound to get some fucking medal or something. Commander Milankovic would probably fuck him too, that slimy little shit.

            Cain was _really_ pissed. There was a hint of jealousy mixed up in this malicious cocktail too, because Sasha K’s skills really were quite something. He used only a small amount of ammo to destroy that ship, hitting it in all the right places. He must have gone to a brilliant training school.

            _Curse being taken from the Colonies!_ Cain thought bitterly. _Why couldn’t I have been born somewhere that had a nice pilot school? Why couldn’t I have gone there from a young age? Fuck it. Fuck everyone._

I smell a jealous bitch…

~

Sasha & Sasha returned to their dorm for a well-earned shower and rest, Sasha B talking excitedly about how great they’d done. Sasha K exhibited his classic cool-as-a-cucumber exterior, thinking that Sasha B was incredibly endearing. That was pure excitement and joy in that boy’s eyes. It was adorable.

            A droplet of blood entered Sasha K’s eye, and as he wiped it away, he remembered his minor injury he’d sustained in the melee.

            “Fuck…” he muttered, as another globule plopped in.

            “What’s up?” Sasha B asked.

            “Ah, nothing,” he replied.

            Sasha B came over and inspected the wound.

            “Want me to patch that up for you? I’ve got a medical certificate and everything…”

            “I’m alright, really.”

            Sasha B raised an eyebrow. Sasha K did the same, as if to say ‘why you looking at me like that?’, but that only made his wound worse. Blood began to dribble out, really annoying his eyeball.

            “You sure?”

            Sasha K waved a hand in his direction, meaning ‘yeah yeah yeah, I’m fine’, but his other hand was engaged in shielding his eye from the drips of blood coming down, so he really did not look fine. So, Sasha B got his medical kit.

            He moved Sasha K’s hand out the way, so he could access the bleeding wound. He got an antiseptic wipe, and dabbed at it to remove the majority of the blood. He accidentally caught Sasha K’s eye, and looked away with a disguised, awkward smile.

            Next he got out a small pot of healing cream (not a healing herb this time, guys), got a tiny bit on his finger, then smeared it on the injury. It felt super-good, by the way, to Sasha K. Nice and cooling. And I’m not even talking about Sasha B touching him.

            Sasha B rummaged through the medical kit and got a tiny roll of bandage. He snipped off a small bit with a pair of high-tech-looking scissors, measured it over Sasha’s wound, then cut it to the perfect size. It was literally miniscule, and almost pointless, but the care Sasha B took in preparing it was absolutely heart-melting.

            They accidentally caught each other’s eye again, and this time they both looked away with a hidden little smile.

He got his roll of surgical-looking tape and cut off two even smaller strips to secure the bandage on. Everything was so precise, so it was obvious that Sasha B had taken his medical certificate-getting course very seriously.

            Sasha B placed the bit of bandage over the wound, being meticulously careful not to touch it, then gently patted the two bits of tape into place. He looked at his work for a second, then his eyes flitted downwards to find Sasha K glancing at him. Their eye contact this time lasted for just a moment longer, so the awkwardness with which they looked away was multiplied tenfold. Sasha B bit his lip and cursed himself for being so un-subtle. Not that he was _trying_ to look at him, anyway…


	22. Chapter 22

_Chapter the Twenty-Second_

In the mess hall, the joviality at Sasha & Sasha’s amazing performance was still on a high. Everyone wanted to sit by them, and they found themselves recounting the story over and over. The navigators were all being quite sensible, since that was one of the characteristics that got them picked for the job, but the fighters—and one fighter in particular— were being rather bellicose.

            “Don’t fucking think you’re so special, Nisus!” Cain interrupted the proceedings to announce. “Take down _one_ enemy ship and you think you’re some kind of hero! So fucking pathetic!”

            “I think the real problem here is that _you_ think you’re some kind of hero,” Sasha K countered. “You’re just jealous that it wasn’t you out there.”

            “Fuck you! I _know_ I’m a hero! You’re just a bitch!”

            “ _I’m_ the bitch? Have you _seen_ your precious navigator? Talk about a bitch!”

            “Don’t you dare bring Abel into this!” Cain cried, raising a fist at Sasha K’s face. He got into a fighting stance, ready to counter the punch, but it did not come, for none other than Abel had come over and restrained him.

            “Cain, don’t,” he said, incredibly calmly.

            Cain obeyed his nav’s orders, and dropped his hand.

            “This isn’t over, Nisus,” he spat.

            Sasha K started picking dirt from underneath his fingernails whilst giving Cain a raised-eyebrows, ‘whatchu gon do bout it’ kind of face. Cain scowled at him in reply, but sat down and continued to eat his borsch and black bread.

            Abel returned to the navs’ table, sighing and rolling his eyes at his fighter’s hot temper. He felt like his mum or something. 


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter the Twenty-Third_

Johan was in the middle of jerking off. He was lying on his bunk (which was the top bunk), with his hand down his unzipped unitard, fapping for all he was worth. He had been _so_ horny recently, what with all the hot men in tight-fitting clothing he’d been around, but he just could not bring himself to ask Carlo to have sex. They’d got off on the wrong foot initially, and after Carlo’s awkward ‘I’ll have sex with you, sure, I know you want to’ debacle, Johan was quite put off.

            At this very moment, Johan’s mind was playing an erotic fantasy for him, which involved being gangbanged by a variety of different officers, including Commander Milankovic and Lead Fighter Encke. In his fantasy, Encke was fucking him in the ass (and they do say that once you go black, you never go back, and thus Johan thought that Encke’s black dick was the height of all his sexual fantasies). Commander Milankovic’s dick was in Johan’s mouth, and Johan was engaged in giving handjobs to both Lead Nav Keeler and that really sexy fighter, Endymion. It was a plethora of glory and beauty, and Johan was about to have a marvellous orgasm.

            Then Carlo walked in.

            “Jesus fuck!” he screamed, noticing Johan’s face and his hand on his dick. “I am so sorry!”

            Johan fumed, putting it away and re-dressing.

            “It’s fine,” he said simply.

            “Are you sure?” Carlo asked. “My offer still stands: use me however you like.”

            Johan almost threw up.

            “Enough of that, seriously,” he replied. “I don’t want to fucking have sex with you.”

            But Carlo was already undressing.

            “NO! STOP!” Johan bellowed, his dick going flaccid and sad.

            “BUT JOHAN, I WANT TO GET FUCKED!”

            “ _NO! GO AWAY! IF YOU WANT TO GET FUCKED, GO FIND CAIN!_ ”

            “Fine. I will.”

            Carlo put his clothes on again, then stormed out of the dorm.

            Johan’s mouth fell open. Was he _actually_ going to find Cain? Was he _actually_ going to get fucked by him?

~

Carlo was rushing down the corridors, trying to get to Cain’s room. Everyone knew the number (666) and all willing navigators (and some fighters) frequented the place. Cain was well-known as the sex fiend of the mission, and he had a personal mission of his own as well: to fuck _everyone_ on the ship. He’d been doing well so far, and it had only been a few days.

            Carlo soon found Dorm 666, and stood outside it, staring at the number. He puffed out his chest, clenched his fists, and walked right up.

            “Antinous? What are you doing here?” Abel asked, appearing from behind him.

            Carlo whipped his head around, blushing immensely.

            “Nothing, Abel. I.... I got the wrong room. I’m sorry.”

            Abel gave him a concerned look, then opened his door and disappeared inside. Carlo caught a glimpse of Cain masturbating on his bunk, and got hard. He had to walk back to his dorm with a huge erection. He passed quite a few people, including Sasha B, Laurentina and Seryozha. They were rather taken aback by the sight (but Laurentina was also very aroused). 


	24. Chapter 24

_Chapter the Twenty-Fourth_

Many thoughts were running through Jacobus’ mind. Mostly thoughts of that lovely navigator. He had been thinking of her for hours now, furiously jerking off when he imagined her doing all sorts of things. He honestly was meant to be doing work or training, but he lied to Lead Fighter Encke that he was ill, so he got the rest of the day off.

    Sonja entered the room so quietly that Jacobus did not notice. He was in cooldown mode after a very rough masturbation session, but ready to get horny again. He began to imagine getting fucked in the ass by Gayle with a strap-on attached to her, and popped a huge boner which strained his unitard.

    “Phantom!” Sonja exclaimed. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

    She was thoroughly disgusted.

    Jacobus started at the sight of Sonja, then hid his erection with a very red face.

    “Hell no!” he replied, incredibly quickly.

    “What was with the… the, uh, boner?”

    “That… was… nothing…”

    Sonja gave him a look.

    “Nothing? Really? Who were you thinking about?”

    Jacobus thought of every single navigator and fighter on the mission, and tried to decide which one would be the least embarrassing to pretend to have a crush on. Of course, Cain was the obvious choice, but he wasn’t into guys so he didn’t want to give Sonja the wrong idea. (Also, the thought of getting with Cain disgusted him.)

    “No one…” he eventually said.

    Sonja scoffed. “Ha! Of course! Unless… you have a fetish for something? Feet? Cars? Buildings?”

    Jacobus gagged.

    “No way! I don’t have a fetish for any of that!”

    (He did, however, have a fetish for latex, but he didn’t tell her that.)

    “So, who were you thinking about?”

    He looked around awkwardly, not wanting to tell her about his deepest desires. But he crumbled, so he did.

    “I was thinking about that navigator… Strawberry.”

    “STRAWBERRY?” Sonja shrieked.

    You see, Sonja knew Strawberry— or Gayle to you— from before the mission. It freaked her out to think that someone had jerked off to her. She was so innocent! The thought that someone would even get aroused by her seemed to almost defile her existence. It was… weird. Discomforting. Wrong.

    “Don’t say it like that!” Jacobus exclaimed. “You’re making me feel bad!”

    “Sorry… I just… I’m her friend, and we’ve known each other for ages. It’s kind of odd, this.”

    “Could you set me up with her?” he asked, very eagerly.

    “Maybe… If that’s what you wanted…?”

    Jacobus fought the urge to jump up and down with glee.

    “Really? Thanks!”

    “It’s actually quite a relief,” Sonja admitted. “I was dreading having sex with you. No offence.”

    “None taken. I was kind of dreading it as well. I don’t think we have that sort of relationship.”

    “Well good luck with Gayle, I guess,” Sonja said.

    “Thanks, man.” He slapped her cordially on the arm. “You did me a solid today. I’ll repay you somehow.”

    There was silence as they looked each other in the eyes for a few moments. Sonja was thinking how this could be perceived as sexual tension, which disgusted her. She looked away and went off to shower.


	25. Chapter 25

_Chapter the Twenty-Fifth_

As soon as Sonja had shut the bathroom door, Jacobus rushed to Gayle’s dorm. He excitedly knocked, and her fighter opened it.

            “I’m afraid you need to go to my dorm to work on something with my navigator. She knows what it is. Commander Milankovic just told me to tell you,” he said, lying so smoothly that Matthias completely fell for it. (Also, it wasn’t exactly military protocol to question orders, so he had to just go with it.)

            “Certainly,” Matthias replied. “Your dorm is 547, isn’t it?”

            Jacobus nodded, and Matthias left his sight. Then he entered Gayle’s abode.

            Gayle’s heart stopped as soon as she saw the divine form of Phantom appear. She looked all up and down, drinking him in, marvelling at how the gods could craft such a fine specimen.

            “Hey there,” Jacobus said, in a low and seductive purr.

            “Oh, hi,” Gayle replied, trying to play hard to get with just those words. She started playing with her hair, twirling it around her finger and smiling coyly. “What brings you here?”

            “Nothing, really… I was just intrigued about you. I’d love to get to know you a little better.”

            “Would you now? We will see if that can be arranged…”

            She sat on her bunk, untied her ponytail and gave him a wink. He got a flutter of butterflehs in his stomach, but swallowed hard to remain strong on the outside.

            “Why don’t you tell _me_ something about you?” Gayle suggested, beginning to remove her nav jacket.

            “I think, if things go right, you’ll find out a lot about me,” he replied innuendo-ly.

            “Oh, Phantom,” she moaned. “You’re getting me all excited.”

            He licked his lips. “Excellent. I think there’s only one thing for that, then…”

~

Sonja answered the door when it was knocked upon, and was confused to find Matthias standing there.

            “Hello…?” she greeted. “What is it?”

            “Apparently Commander Milankovic wanted us to work on something together…”

            Sonja looked puzzled, then shook her head.

            “Nope… I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

            “Oh. Your fighter told me I was meant to be here. Let me contact Gayle.”

            He used the walkie-talkie-like device on his watch to call Gayle, but all he heard on the other end was muffled moans and screams. It was totally obvious what was going on. Sonja and Matthias looked at each other with a shared awkwardness. They couldn’t even think of what to say to ease the tension.

            “Kind of makes me wanna fool around,” Matthias accidentally blurted out.

            “Does it?” Sonja spluttered. “Cos I was kind of thinking the same thing…”

            “Oh _were you_ now?”

            Matthias grabbed her by the waist and started kissing her neck, setting the tone for their little session. Sonja yelped at the unexpected turn of events, but was very horny so submitted to his caress.

            Soon they found themselves on the bed, undressing as if their lives depended on it. Matthias’s boner was hard against Sonja’s gentle skin, but pressed in with an arousing warmth. Once naked, he plunged it into her moist vagina.

            It felt so great to finally have sex. Sonja hadn’t had sex since before they’d got on the ship (with some random prostitute at the popular brothel ‘Babylon’), and Matthias hadn’t fucked anyone since… well, to be honest, since he’d fucked Gayle, which wasn’t that long ago. But still, he liked this new pussy.

            They couldn’t care less that they weren’t using a condom, because the skin-on-skin contact was just so mind-blowing. Matthias’s penis was _the_ perfect fit in Sonja’s vagina; almost as if they were made for each other! Both of their moans could be heard in the adjacent rooms, but no one was judging. In fact, they were very proud of the people who they were hearing getting laid. Good for them!

            Eventually, Sonja succumbed to the most wonderful orgasm of her life. Her head was thrown back in exultation, and her vagina was pummelled by wave after wave of pleasure. Matthias also came, but withdrew just before so there was less chance he’d knock her up (remember precum, guys!). His semen poured out everywhere, the sheer volume showing just how much he had loved it.

            Once they were both spent, Matthias got up and put his clothes back on.

            “That was so good,” Sonja noted.

            “Oh, I know. We need to do that again.”

            “Maybe we can swap? Strawberry has Phantom, and I have you.”

            “O happy day! That sounds perfect!”

~

Both pairs met outside Commander Milankovic’s quarters. He was rather ruffled, since he’d been woken late at night by some randoms asking for a word, and was in no mood to be nice.

            “What do you want?” he growled.

            “We want to swap navigators, sir,” Matthias replied.

            Commander Milankovic was too tired to give a fuck, so he waved his hand and went “Alright, alright.” He handed them some papers to make it official, and told them to give them in tomorrow. With that, he put his nightcap back on and returned to bed.


	26. Chapter 26

_Chapter the Twenty-Sixth_

Commander Milankovic dreamed very strangely that night. As soon as Matthias had gone and Marat had returned to his slumber, he had begun to dream incredibly weird things. Firstly, he dreamt that Matthias came into his room and spread his ass cheeks for him, and then Milankovic penetrated him. Except in the dream, he had three dicks, and they all fit into Matthias’ ass. He woke up abruptly after ejaculating, and was embarrassed to find that he had done so in real life as well. After cleaning himself up, he went back to sleep.

            His next dream was far more taboo. In the beginning, he was in his old training school, teaching a class of teenage students. One of these students was the navigator Euryalus, who for some reason looked about thirteen years old. He had a lovely youthful face, his cheeks not yet shaded with the first manly down, his skin still soft and smooth. He could have easily been described as one of the beautiful youths that Greek men so often desired ( _pederasty_!).

            Milankovic was suddenly wracked with a desire to violently fuck this boy. The rest of the class disappeared, as well as the rest of the room, so there was only him and Euryalus. Milankovic advanced upon him, his boner almost as big as his entire body. Euryalus was terrified, and tried to run away, but at the end of the room there was just a huge, galactic abyss.

            “Let me go!” he cried, as Milankovic wrapped his arms around the boy’s small form.

            “Never!” he replied.

            Milankovic threw Euryalus over the edge of the room, still holding onto him. His dick acted like a parachute, so they gently floated down. As they did so, Milankovic turned him over and put the entire length inside Euryalus’ ass. Somehow, the head ended up poking out of his mouth, so Milankovic got anal and a BJ at the same time.

            In short, he raped the navigator. Euryalus looked to be having an awful time the whole way through it, and when Milankovic came, the blobs of it bobbed about in space. Euryalus was sobbing now, but Milankovic soothed him until his tears were dry.

            His dick went limp, and because of this, its power waned. They began to hurtle through the abyss, and Commander Milankovic suddenly woke up. He was thoroughly disturbed at himself, since he had no sexual desire for that navigator, on account of him being UNDERAGE. He grimaced at the strange turns his mind could take, but soon fell asleep for a third time.

            He dreamed of Matthias again. They had incredibly rough sex in this dream, in a large number of different ways. In some of them, Matthias had a vagina, which Milankovic had a lot of fun with. Sometimes, Milankovic had the vagina, and Matthias was eating him out. Milankovic personally had never had a vagina before, so he had no idea how his unconscious mind could re-create the feeling so accurately.

            Five rapid, hot dreams later, Milankovic’s dick was absolutely exhausted. He had nothing left, so he woke up and lay staring at the ceiling, thinking about how much he wanted to fuck Matthias for real. If he were that good in real life as in the dream… God, Marat would have an amazing time.

            In this way, in the morning, Milankovic resolved to have sex with the fighter.

            He hopped out of bed, got dressed, then went down to give the officers their morning briefing. Throughout the whole meeting, he was eying Matthias right up, thinking how good he looked that day. He actually looked better in real life than in his dreams. Score!

            “...So, that is all for today. Dismissed. But— Mat, please stay behind. I need to speak with you.”

            Matthias nodded, and waited for everyone to leave.

            “What was it, sir?” he asked, standing to attention in front of the Commander.

            “I just needed to speak to you for one moment. Do you remember that Lead Fighter Encke and Lead Navigator Keeler said how they were looking for the four best pairs to complete the final part of the mission?”

            “Yes, sir,” Matthias replied.

            “Well…” Marat adopted a rather more seductive tone— “whatever happens, I will be making sure you and your navigator are on board. I wouldn’t want your… special fighter talents to go to waste.”

            He went over to Matthias and put a hand under his chin. He moved it up, stroking Matthias’ cheek with the backs of his fingers. Matthias inhaled sharply at this touch, but did not wholly dislike it.

            “I think you should show me your talents now…” Marat purred.

            “Oh, certainly, sir,” Matthias replied, in an incredibly submissive way.

            Milankovic removed his clothing so his poppin’ penis was visible. It was hard as a rock, and Matthias bit his lip at the arousing sight of it. He knelt down and put the dick inside his mouth, then began to suck. Milankovic hissed at the first erotic contact of tongue and shaft, so Matthias increased the rhythm until he was pretty much sucking it completely off.

            “Deeper… deeper…” Milankovic groaned.

            Matthias did so. Marat’s dick was incredibly huge, so he almost gagged when the entire thing went in. He made a fist around his thumb and pressed it into his palm to stop himself (a method he learned from an ex-prostitute friend of his).

Since Milankovic was an older gentleman, he was a little less virile than most, so he ejaculated after a very short time. Matthias choked on the first spray of cum, since it shot right into the back of his throat, so he moved back a bit to let a gentle stream pour into his mouth. It obviously went all over his face, which made Milankovic very excited.

“You little cumslut,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, I know, sir,” Matthias replied, licking off the last remains of Marat’s wasted seed.

            Matthias stood up, his knees clicking because he was getting old, bade Milankovic farewell, then went to do his daily duties. On the way there, he spent a while thinking of a believable cover story.


	27. Chapter 27

_Chapter the Twenty-Seventh_

The fighters were busy training. Well, most of them. Cain and Seryozha were hanging around in the gym, absent-mindedly lifting weights. Cain was struggling with a massive one, but he wanted to have a heavier one than that bitch fighter Apollo.

            “Weak-ass hoe…” Cain muttered. “Look at that tiny weight…”

            “What the fuck, Cain?” Seryozha replied, from across the room where he was working out. “Could we not just have one hour of silence?”

            “Silence, pah! No way! But, actually, you probably don’t have enough breath to talk, since you are finding _that_ miniscule weight difficult to lift.”

            “I’ll throw it at you if you’re not careful,” Seryozha stated simply.

            “Try me! I bet you can’t even throw it halfway across the room!”

            Seryozha hurled his weight at Cain, and it would have hit him in the head had he not dodged. It smashed into the wall, crumpling the thick metal. Cain swore as the thing was hurtling towards him, and it was an exclamation of genuine fear. Seryozha was rather smug.

            “See?” he taunted, picking up a heavier weight. Cain glared at him, grabbing a ridiculously gargantuan one and attempting to lift it in one hand.

            “I’m more of a hardass than you, Apollo. Just cos you did that doesn’t mean you’re the hardest dude alive.”

            “Hardass? With that tiny little dick of yours, I don’t think so.”

            Cain instinctively looked at his crotch, which he thought was rather large. He took a peek at Seryozha’s, and was dismayed at the size of the bulge. That stupid man… God, he was well-endowed. Cain kind of wanted a taste, but he would never let such thoughts cross his mind.

            “I have DOMINATED my navs _so_ good!” Cain defended himself. “They haven’t been able to walk for weeks— nay, months! I bet you can’t even make yours cum!”

            “We’ll see about that,” Seryozha said. “I can dominate your fucking nav way better than you can.”

            “Oh really? Shall we test that?”

            “Go the fuck on, let’s test it. Where is he?”

            They went back to Cain’s dorm, where Abel was sitting and working in peace. Cain grabbed Abel’s tablet off him, threw it on the ground, then stripped him off.

            “Tell me you want it, slut,” Cain growled.

            “Oh… Oh Cain… I want it… Now…”

            Abel hadn’t noticed that Seryozha was there, but when he saw him, he got even more excited. A threesome! With that incredibly sexy fighter! What a result!

            Cain hurriedly unzipped his unitard and grabbed his lube. Seryozha did the same, producing a pocket-sized pot of strawberry-scented lubricant. They both lathered up their hard phalloi, and fought to be the first one inside Abel’s ass.

            Now, do you remember the description of Yura’s ass that was provided some chapters ago? Well, as you’ll recall, his asshole was wide as shit, so much so that one could fit about five hundred dicks in there. But let me tell you-- Abel’s asshole was _wider._ Cain was an incredibly rough dom, so every time they fucked, he pounded the hole like he was digging for gold. He also sometimes made Abel wear increasingly larger butt plugs throughout the day, in order to reach a large size for their later fucking. His asshole was many inches in diameter after all this.

            What I’m trying to say, in this very roundabout way, is that both Cain and Seryozha would fit inside him. And they did. Their dicks fought for dominance, but when they both went for the charge, their cocks slipped in with space to spare. Abel let out a mousy squeak of pleasure, then the fighters started pummelling his ass.

            Up above, Cain and Seryozha were having a catfight. Cain slapped his hand over Seryozha’s face, trying to push him away so he could get all of Abel, but Seryozha was strong, and kept twisting his wrist to get him off. At the same time, they were both thrusting furiously, causing a lot of friction.

            “Please… I need more lube…” Abel groaned, through the burning pain.

            Both fighters grabbed their lube and practically poured the whole tubs into his gaping hole. There was so much lube splashing about that they could barely see whose dick was whose.

            Seryozha had a better position within Abel’s asshole, so he managed to reach the prostate and give the nav the time of his life.

            “Apollo… Apollo… Apollo…” Cain was appalled to find Abel moaning. He shuffled a bit, punched Seryozha in the face to distract him, then got his dick into the optimum place. He had control of the prostate now, so Abel began to scream his name in pure euphoria.

            Cain felt like he was about to cum, and he bit his lip to try and distract himself. If he came first, he would undoubtedly lose. He had to contain it.

            On the other hand, Seryozha could have kept going on and on and on for years. He was a fresh and agile buck, with tons of spunk left in him, and certainly a lot of staying power.

            _Yipeekay-ay!_ he thought, beginning to switch up his movements. Now he was going in as deep as possible, pushing Cain’s cock out the way. He was forced to withdraw, since Seryozha was taking up so much space and moving around so much.

            “Bitch!” Cain hissed, slapping him round the face. Instinctively, Seryozha put a hand over his nose to protect it, but was not deterred. He kept thrusting into Abel’s ass, and heard his melodious voice screaming his name over and over. He grinned from ear to ear, looking pointedly at Cain.

            Cain tried to put his dick back in, but Seryozha grabbed it and squeezed it so hard Cain started whimpering. Seryozha let go, and Cain was horrified to find a red-hand shaped mark on the shaft.

            “And there we go,” Seryozha taunted, watching Cain cum on account of Seryozha’s moment-long handjob. “I win.”

            Abel turned around as much as he was able, and asked what was going on. He was still in the throes of pleasure, so it kind of came out in a weird way.

            “Please could one of you… could one of you just— ahhhhh— cum inside me?”

            Seryozha concentrated on the sex, ignoring Cain’s protests, getting hotter and hotter until his juice cascaded out in a delicious flood. Abel finally came as well, and he had been ready to do it for a _long_ time.

            “You fucking slut, Abel, how dare you!” Cain shouted, pushing Seryozha out of the way and putting Abel’s clothes back on him. “Why did you let that bitch fuck you?”

            “I didn’t really have much choice!” Abel replied, with a surprising amount of venom.

            Seryozha took this opportunity to leave, since he had caused this domestic. He was actually quite happy about that.


	28. Chapter 28

_Chapter the Twenty-Eighth_

In the next morning briefing, Commander Milankovic announced that they had entered enemy space. There were hushed, worried whispers amongst the navs, while the fighters were a little more excited. They were ready to shoot some enemy ass. And not even in that way.

            “Now, gentlemen— and ladies— and whoever else I may have forgotten— being in enemy space means that anything can happen,” Milankovic said. “So to prepare you for that, we will mix the fighter and navigator pairings for one day. Line up.”

            With military precision (which was unsurprising, because this was a military organization) the fighters and navs formed two lines, facing each other, in the middle of the room. Milankovic went up and down, dressing the lines as he went, then stood at the head of the formation and brought up a list on his tablet.

            “Strawberry, you go with Apollo,” he ordered.

            Gayle eyed Seryozha up, to a very satisfying result. He was H-O-T.

            “Hyacinth, with Sherlock.”

            Alice licked her lips at the sight of Jeanne. She could not wait to destroy her pussy.

            “Phobos, with Cain.”

            Yura swore, and Cain smiled smugly. He’d been wanting to fuck this navigator for _ever_. He looked like such a nice ass to fuck, and was probably good at sucking dicks too. He had the lips. The dick-sucking lips.

            “Deimos, with Scarlett.”

            Laurentina didn’t like the look of this fighter. He had hair over one eye all mysterious-like, and looked slimy as shit. His eyes were all big, but looked kind of like he’d taken tons of drugs. He just radiated an aura of evil, and Laurentina was very suspicious of him.

            “Ghost, with Endymion.”

            Sonja took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of her new fighter. Bautista. Yummy.

            “Euryalus, with Hadrian.”

            Johan found his new nav, Sasha B, kinda cute, but he was disgusted at himself for thinking such paedophilic thoughts. Sasha B found Johan incredibly charming, but not his type.

            “Abel, with Fish.”

            Alyosha coloured at the mention of his _STUPID_ task name, but shrugged it off. Abel felt protected already, since he knew Alyosha had been on many missions and would be a good fighter. And a good fucker, he hoped.

            “Watson, with Misfit.”

            Matilda wasn’t into Jaden at all. He was far too cocky, a fact which had been proved consistently throughout the whole mission so far. She did not do cocky people. Or _do_ cocky people.

            “Serenity, with Nisus.”

            Olivera had to admit, she liked Sasha K rather a lot. Of course, no one could replace Bautista, but this boy was pretty hot too. He had that youthful vibe, owing to the fact that he was indeed a youth, and Olivera was excited. She hoped they would have sex.

            “And finally, Chips, go with Cream.”

            Both of them almost threw up at the sound of their fucking ridiculous task names, and then smiled when they both noticed. Sasha the Soldier already felt like some kind of older brother to Jacobus, even though he was a shit older brother in real life (his sisters knew what sex was by the time they were about four).

            “Now, gentlemen, ladies and everyone else, get used to your new pairs. Make sure to train well together, for you never know when you might need to team up with a random person. Dismissed.”

            Everyone left with their new partner, ready for a day of fun and frolicking.


	29. Chapter 29

_Chapter the Twenty-Ninth_

Gayle and Seryozha decided to be productive and train inside a starfighter. They weren’t actually going to go out of the ship, for fear of being detected by enemy patrols, but they were going to roleplay what it would actually be like. Gayle absolutely loved doing this in her training school, because she could make the scenarios get so difficult the fighter would break down. Of course, her new fighter was far too sexy to break.

            They went into Seryozha’s starfighter, which smelled really gross since Jeanne had put a pungent air freshener next to her chair. Gayle and Seryozha both coughed when they entered, so Seryozha located the air freshener and threw it out.

            “So, what’s the scenario today, fighter?” Gayle asked.

            Seryozha shrugged. “Enemy patrol at the right flank, approaching from thirty thousand metres. Or something. I don’t care. Whatever you like really.”

            “Nice idea, Apollo, but how about we make it one enemy patrol on each flank? Spice things up a bit, ya know.”

            This was a different method of flirting to the one she used normally, and she felt that it was working. She could feel the heterosexuality just oozing off this man.

            “Alright, nav. Let’s do it.”

            There was a special mode on Seryozha’s starfighter (a feature which he had _totally_ paid for in a _totally_ non-bribed, legal way) that enabled them to enact scenarios as part of training. He turned this mode on, which made the starfighter turn on— but it actually didn’t, because that would be a waste of fuel; it just pretended to— and the console light up. They plopped into their seats, strapped in, then Seryozha typed in the parameters of this simulation. It then began to run.

            “Enemy patrol at thirty thousand metres on both flanks,” an automated voice told both of them.

            “What do you suggest I do, Apollo?” Gayle asked, since she didn’t really know how to tackle this one.

            “Hurry up, that’s what I suggest! Bring us forward then swing round so we can face them! Go!”

            Gayle did so, and as Seryozha fired on the enemy ships (which were just projections in the windshield— or, I guess, in this case, spaceshield), she kept the starfighter in the correct place. Seryozha was an excellent marksman, and was shooting the large patrols down like ducks in hunting season.

            One patrol was totally gone, so Gayle thought it was time to pounce. She let go of the controls, making the starfighter suddenly lurch forwards.

            “Suka blyad!” Seryozha hissed. “What are you doing?”

            “Sorry, Apollo, I lost control for one second. We’re alright now, though.”

            The simulator wasn’t that advanced, so Seryozha bought it. Gayle continued to creep towards him.

            Seryozha was concentrating on shooting the enemy ships down as much as the pinball wizard of that famous The Who song concentrated at his magnum opus game of pinball, so he did not notice Gayle coming until her wet lips were on his neck.

            “SUKA BLYAD!” Seryozha yelped. “Get away from me!”

            “Don’t be so shy, dear Apollo, I know you want this…” Gayle said between kisses.

            “I don’t!”

            Gayle was not deterred, and instead began to take off his clothes. Seryozha wanted to slap her away, but his morals to never slap a woman were begging to be upheld. He took the moral path, so did not put up any physical resistance. But that meant that Gayle had free reign to do whatever she wanted.

            She took off his sleek black fighter unitard all the way down to his thighs, revealing his large (but flaccid) penis. Gayle took the thing in her hands and started to rub it up and down, making it get hard.

            _Not again…_ Seryozha thought, horrified that his man-loving dick was betraying him once more.

            “Oh, you like that, huh?” Gayle teased.

            “No! Get the _fuck_ off me!”

            “I bet you love it, really…”

            Gayle then lowered herself down, caressed his thighs a bit, then went in with her soft lips. She slid the whole of his cock into her mouth, almost choking, but swallowing her fear and just going for it. She sucked it like a pro, making Seryozha almost throw up everywhere.

            “STOP! I DON’T GIVE MY FUCKING CONSENT! DIDN’T YOU EVER GET TAUGHT ABOUT THIS IN PILOT SCHOOL?”

            Gayle smiled, but did not listen to his words. She withdrew her mouth for a second to speak thus:

            “But I’ve never tasted a Russian before… And you taste _so good_ …”

            Seryozha grimaced, and Gayle clamped her lips around his dick again. She completely deep-throated it, while Seryozha cried out again and again that he did not like this.

            “Why not?” Gayle asked, letting off for a moment to catch her breath. “It is so… much… fun…”  
            She began again.

            “I AM FUCKING GAY!” Seryozha screamed, fighting the urge to grab her by the hair and rip her off his dick. “I DON’T FUCKING LIKE THIS!”

            Gayle was not deterred even by these words, and kept sucking until he came, in a lame and pathetic squirt. As she swallowed the tiny amount of semen, she frowned.

            “You didn’t even get the big O. Damn. I can normally turn you homosexuals with my blowjobs. Not this time I suppose. I guess you really _are_ gay.”

            Seryozha gave her the most incredulous look. There was so much wrong with what she had just said.

            “Yes, I fucking am. Jesus Christ.”

            “Are you sure, though?” Gayle asked, putting his clothes back on with care that Seryozha did not desire. “Maybe you just don’t like BJs… have you ever tried vaginal sex? A handjob? BDSM?”

            Seryozha actually _loved_ BJs, but he felt that he should not tell her that. He was still kind of annoyed as well, so the angry demon upon his shoulder took over.

            “No, I have not— not with a woman, at least. And I know that I won’t like it. Don’t even try.”

            “Oh, come on, you can’t be _all_ gay…” Gayle began to playfully stroke his inner thigh.

            “Yes, I can, and I am. Stop trying to ‘turn’ me. It won’t work. And get the _fuck_ off me.”

            Gayle was quite sad that her sexual skills had not made the fighter into her. Better luck next time, maybe.

            “Are you really _really_ sure you’re 100% gay? Don’t you have a hunger for even a little bit of pussy?”

            Seryozha sighed so deeply he could have blown a thousand ships all the way to Troy.

            “No,” he replied. “Give it up. Please.”

            “I’m just asking, my dear Apollo. I just don’t understand how one can _not_ experiment with the genders! How can you not find women sexy?”

            “I just… I don’t know really, I just don’t. It’s just how it is. I’m not sure, to be honest. I have no interest. None. Like, I don’t even find tits hot. I’ve never been aroused by a woman. It’s weird, actually.”  
            Gayle nodded like a therapist giving him a psychological evaluation.

            “Intriguing… Another mystery of the universe, I suppose! How fascinating! So you’ve never even gone out with a girl before?”

            Seryozha had no idea why the nav was suddenly asking him so many questions, but he found it oddly relaxing to talk about this with someone he didn’t know that well.

            “I haven’t, actually,” he replied. “Even when I was young, when you fake-’went out’ with people, it was always boys.”

            “But you lived in Russia!” Gayle exclaimed. “Did they not _murder_ you?”

            Seryozha scoffed. “Russia’s a very progressive country! We had the first human-android wedding just last year! What about England, eh?”

            Gayle shrugged and went “Touché, touché.”

            “Anyway, I think we need to do another simulation. We got killed in the last one.”  
            “I agree. Thanks for the chat, Apollo; it was good. And sorry about the whole… dick-sucking thing.”

            Seryozha dismissed the event with a fabulous wave of the hand. Inside, he was still disgusted and disturbed that he’d been fucked by _another_ girl, but did not let that show. This nav seemed quite nice, underneath the crazy sexual exterior. Maybe they could be good friends one day.


	30. Chapter 30

_Chapter the Thirtieth_

Alice and Jeanne, meanwhile, were busy finding a secluded spot. Alice eventually chose her starfighter, and led Jeanne in for a fun time. She locked the door, grabbed her toy bag, then lay Jeanne out on the floor.

            “What are you doing?” Jeanne shrieked.

            “Protocol.”

            “ _Protocol? THAT PROTOCOL?_ ”

            “Yes.”

            Jeanne started thrashing about, but she stopped when Alice pressed a whirring magic bullet onto her clit. She immediately felt a warmth between her legs, even though this was through her clothes, and kind of wanted more.

            Alice removed her lower-half garments, and saw how wet Jeanne was. She cackled kind of creepily, but placed the magic bullet directly on top of her clitoris nevertheless. Jeanne inhaled sharply as the cold, vibrating metal started working on her soft flesh, but loved the sensation.

            _Jeanne, this is weird!_ she told herself. _You are straight!_

She did not listen to her mind very well, since she was really getting into the erotic zone. She submitted to the pleasure, and let Alice do her work.

            Next, the fighter took a proper vibrator with a little kink at the end to reach the g-spot, and slid it into Jeanne’s wet vag. The feeling made her shudder all the way up her body, but then was overcome by the pure and wonderful feeling of the furious buzzing inside of her. She was so warm and moist, and this was only the beginning.

            “I think you’re warmed up now, you little bitch,” Alice said. “You are such a slut; you want this _so_ badly, don’t you?”

            “I do…” Jeanne found herself saying.

            _What the fuck? YOU ARE STRAIGHT!_

But when Alice’s pierced tongue began to work her clit, she was not so sure.

            “Oh, Sherlock!” she exclaimed, clenching her fists as the intense pleasure shot through her. Alice smiled, and started licking in larger motions, just brushing over the vaginal entrance and finishing with a light touch on the clitoris. The anticipation made Jeanne almost implode, and she started begging Alice to go right in.

            Alice Brown was truly a natural. Her tongue focused on Jeanne’s clit, pounding it with vigorous circles, while two of her fingers thrust inside of her vagina. With the double lot of pleasure, Jeanne felt like she was about to have a thousand orgasms, but Alice did it so well she managed to draw it out for a deliciously long time.

            Jeanne was as wet as a waterfall now, which made it easy for Alice to insert a large dildo into her vagina. It had many lumps and bumps on it, and was so perfect inside of her. Then Alice decided to take things to the next level.

            Wiping her mouth of all Jeanne’s wetness, she turned her on her front and made her get on her hands and knees (like the downward-facing dog yoga position!). She delved into her toy bag and produced a strap-on, which had its own little vibrator on the inside to work on Alice’s clit while she penetrated Jeanne’s ass.

            She undressed, turned it on and lubed it up. Jeanne was biting her lip off in anticipation, because she’d never tried anal. Apparently it was amazing… She hoped so.

            Jeanne inhaled sharply as the strap-on dick went smoothly inside. It hurt a bit, since she was so tight, but the amount of lube made it so much more comfortable. It was a very different feeling to vaginal penetration or clitoral stimulation, and she loved it. It was kind of… warm, and comforting. A deeper kind of pleasure than the wild hotness of front-door sex. She could definitely go at this for ages.

            Alice began to thrust, slowly at first so Jeanne’s ass could get used to it. Jeanne felt absolutely everything: the moist lube, the dildo in her vagina, the sliding of the strap-on inside her ass. It was as if her senses had been heightened, and she could feel every single movement as Alice thrust in and out.

            “Oh God… Oh God…” she moaned, the hot moistness between her legs increasing.

            Alice narrowed her eyes as she concentrated, both on destroying Jeanne’s ass and the vibrator working her clit. Being a dominant, she normally got a lot less pleasure, but with this brand-new strap-on, she was having a great time. Inside, Alice really loved being submissive, but she only found herself falling for the other submissive girls. She was excellent on top, so she always ended up being dom. But now… oh, now she had the best of both worlds!

            Both girls inhaled sharply as they reached the next stage of pleasure: orgasm. Alice yelped out loud as many intense stabs of pure beauty coursed through her body, while Jeanne relished in the deep, throbbing sensation of an anal orgasm. Jeanne’s lasted for a longer time, and when Alice withdrew the strap-on, she sighed as another wave hit.

            “Now time to see what’s been hiding in here…” Alice said, removing the dildo from Jeanne’s vagina. A huge outpouring of fluid flowed down, covering the floor and Alice’s hands. She smiled in a sultry way.

            “You little bitch… You sure cum a lot…”

            Jeanne giggled, feeling somewhat embarrassed at that. She was also incredibly confused as to why she had enjoyed it so much. She had never been turned on by a girl before, and now her mind was thinking of all sorts of things about how she’d like to suck on Alice’s tits, lick out her pussy, caress her curves, kiss her right on the mouth… God, it was weird. She’d never considered herself as liking girls before, and now she certainly felt that way.

            Empowered by this new revelation, Jeanne left the starfighter for a day of training and tomfoolery with her fighter.


	31. Chapter 31

_Chapter the Thirty-First_

Sasha Brankovic and Johan Cooper got on incredibly well. Johan was such a friendly and charismatic guy, and Sasha B immediately felt like they’d known each other for ages. They were like brothers, and did some amazing training. They were so compatible.

    Sasha K was watching these proceedings from afar. He saw Johan and Brankovic in a training simulation together, laughing and joking in an incredibly close manner. He scowled in their general direction, then went _WOAH, dude, you aren’t JEALOUS, are you?_

He’d never thought that he had feelings for his navigator, but seeing him being all buddy-buddy with another fighter got him really riled up. He actually _dreaded_ the thought that Sasha B would fall for someone else. And that was worrying.

    _You totally don’t like that guy,_ he thought. _You’re just overthinking things. You have crossed that bridge. You are OVER IT._

But he really wasn’t. He looked over at the training simulator again, and saw the pair jump up and down with glee, having just completed a particularly difficult hand-to-hand combat scenario. Sasha B leapt into Johan’s outstretched arms, and they had a proper bro-hug. Sasha K, however, read this as _far_ more romantic than it was. He was pissed.

    He stood outside the training simulator like he was waiting for his turn, and when the pair came out they profusely apologised for making him wait so long.

    “It’s alright,” Sasha K dismissed. “I just, uh, needed to speak to you… Euryalus.”

    “Oh, sure,” Sasha B replied, taking off his training helmet and shaking his hair back to its usual perfection (which was really arousing to our poor fighter). “What do you need to say?”

    Sasha K gestured to a more private spot. “I’ll tell you… um, yeah, over there…”

    (He had no idea why he was being so awkward, and he hated himself for it.)

    Euryalus followed him over to the place to which his fighter had vaguely pointed, and then Sasha K gathered up enough courage to speak his mind.

    “Having fun with your new fighter, then?” he asked, easing the tension and giving him enough time to think of how to phrase his main point.

    “Yeah, he’s good,” Sasha B replied. “Not as good as you, I mean, but… you know…”

    Sasha K smiled, because he just could not help himself finding his navigator so adorable.

    “Basically, Euryalus,” Sasha K suddenly said, rather abruptly. “I wanna say something.”

    He took a pause, to which Sasha B gave him a quizzical look.

    “Alright… Well… If you want to follow protocol, then you can, because I… wouldn’t… mind it…?”

    ( _Why the fuck did that turn out so shit, you PIZDA*?!_ he berated himself inwardly.)

_*That’s a Russian swear word, but I’ll leave it to you to work out what it means. Clue: it’s rude._

    “Oh my God… really? You want to… do that? I thought it was just me… oh my God, no, that sounds weird, I’m sorry… But, really, seriously? You wanna— no, you like me? Like that? I mean, I don’t wanna jump to conclusions but that’s kind of… oh Jesus… are you actually—”

    He was silenced by a truly magisterial kiss from Sasha K. It was a proper one as well, just like what you’d see in the movies: those slightly forceful ones, where the initiator grabs the target’s face with both hands and drags them in suddenly, but you know that they’re requited because there was just _so_ much sexual tension in that scene, and it ends up being so devastatingly romantic that you just wish someone would do that to you. It was thus that Sasha K kissed his navigator.

    It lasted for a long time, and did not even have a pause where they broke apart and breathlessly said some words before going in again. It was just straight-up (although not technically straight), wall-to-wall lip action. They both actually _knew_ how kisses worked, so they didn’t need to pull away to catch their breath (you have a thing called a nose, guys).

    The next stage was soon reached. Sasha K’s hands had moved downwards this whole time, from the cheeks, to the neck, to the waist, and eventually to DAT ASS. That was what signalled that it was now sexual, and both of them were so ready.

    Sasha B’s lips got a break, since his fighter had now moved on to his neck. That set some things off in the nav’s mind, meaning that his aroused self now came to the fore.

    Sasha K broke contact for one second to say: “Why don’t we follow that protocol now, Euryalus?” in a very breathless and excited manner.

    “Oh, oh my God… yes… please, Nisus… just fuck me…”

    (Sasha B had no idea why he’d said that, but his rational mind had kind of handed over the baton to its horny counterpart.)

    The navigator then felt the arousing warmth of his fighter’s crotch momentarily touching his own. Since Sasha B had a _massive_ boner right now, it was completely easy to detect even with the tiny second of contact. Sasha K was very excited that it was not just him that was getting hot.

    “We’re in the middle of the ship, Euryalus…” he whispered in his ear, very seductively. He was _way_ close to his nav now, with his arms actually around his shoulders, and their aroused areas touching for a prolonged period of time. “You gotta wait…”

    “But please… just let me have something…”

    Sasha K gave him a very sultry sort of smile, and then continued with his neck-kissing business. He concentrated on just one area, eventually breaking away to reveal a _huge_ , dark-ass hickey. Sasha B immediately put his hand over it, his mouth open in a half-surprised, half-delighted way.

    “Tomorrow, Euryalus,” Sasha K stated. “Tomorrow I’ll give you everything you want.”

    Sasha B replied with the most satisfied smile he’d ever given anyone. He looked at his fighter with eyes that were kind of hazy with arousal. (He sort of looked like he’d just had sex, what with the lids half-closed, eyelashes all long and visible, slightly parted lips as if he were expecting more, and a general post-intimacy mien.)

    “I didn’t know you wanted me _that_ bad,” Sasha K joked, smiling that sexy smile that got his navigator so excited.

    Sasha B was back to his normal self now, and got kind of embarrassed. He went bright red, and covered his face with his hand.

    “Oh, God… I wasn’t that desperate, was I?”

    “You were perfect,” Sasha K replied.

    At those words, Sasha B got a severe attack of the butterflies. His fighter was… gods, he was indescribable! This day really could not have got any better.

    “I think I should get back to Hadrian,” Sasha B said, feeling stupid for ruining the moment they were having.

    “Alright. See you later, I hope.”

    They clasped hands for one moment, then parted lingeringly and returned to their previous activities. As Sasha B was walking back to Johan, he realised that he still had that massive-ass hickey on his neck, so he tried to cover it up with the collar of his jacket. But it was very high up, so no amount of clothes-rearranging could hide it. When Johan noticed it, he gave the navigator a look that meant he knew _exactly_ what had gone down between him and his fighter.


	32. Chapter 32

_Chapter the Thirty-Second_

As soon as the morning briefing had been dismissed, Cain grabbed Yura by the arm and dragged him right off to his and Abel’s dorm.

            “What the hell, Cain? Aren’t we going to do any training?” he asked as he struggled to wrest himself from Cain’s grip.

            “Of course fucking not, you idiot. You know what we are going to do.”

            “Oh, Jesus…” Yura said under his breath, realising the turn things had just taken. “Are you kidding me right now?”

            Cain gave him a mocking smile.

            “Bitch, I’ve wanted to fuck your ass for so long now; do you think I’m gonna pass up this opportunity? So shut up.”

            “You know, if Commander Milankovic finds out about all this, you’re gonna be so screwed,” Yura said, his voice absolutely dripping with venom.

            “Commander Milankovic? He won’t fucking care; I’ve sucked his dick to get promotions!”

            Yura uttered an incredibly colourful Russian swear word/phrase.

            “Oh, Phobos!” Cain exclaimed, so sarcastic that if there were a meter reading his sarcasm levels, it would have exploded ages ago. “I wouldn’t normally fuck you St. Petersburg sluts, but I just can’t help myself with you!”  
            Yura gave him a look like: ‘what the fuck, that didn’t even make sense!’

            “You’re such a whore, Cain,” he said, kind of to himself.

            “ _Me_ , the whore? From what I’ve heard from dear Deimos, you show the signs of being _pretty_ slutty!”

            _Fuck Deimos!_ Yura thought. _What the fuck’s he doing telling that stuff to Cain?_

They finally reached the dorm, and Cain kicked the door open and flung Yura onto the floor (which is where their beds were). From Yura’s lips an unabated stream of swear words fell.

            “Cain, for fuck’s sake!”

            “Shh, myshonok,” he said, putting a finger on Yura’s lips. Yura considered all the places where that finger had been, and almost threw up. He slapped it off his face.

            “Speaking Russian won’t make me like you!” Yura exclaimed.

            “Speaking Russian won’t make _me_ like _you_!” Cain replied.

            “I _am_ Russian!”

            “So am I!”

            They had reached a stalemate, so shared an awkward silence for a few moments.

            “Right, time to get fucked, you little slut,” Cain then announced.

            “Jesus Christ,” Yura muttered, so absolutely and utterly _done_ with this. “I don’t have any say in this, do I?”

            “You’re a nav. Of course you don’t,” Cain said, in a simple maxim showing the inherent classism in the organisation. (Really, the navigators were always seen as lesser, even by them themselves. It was a sorry and rather corrupt state of affairs.)

            Cain ripped off Yura’s clothes and got a look at his infamous ass. God, it was perfect in every way. Cain had finally found an asshole that could fit his gigantic dick!

            “Holy shit, you whore-ass navigator, you have been fucked more than the Commander’s rent boy!”

            (Not that Yura was _ever_ the Commander’s rent boy, of course…)

            “Shut the _fuck_ up, Cain; just get on with it. If you’re gonna fuck me, then get it over and done with.”

            Cain sighed.

            “Will I have to get my gag out for you, Phobos?”

            “Fuck off.”

            Cain got into the right mindset, making an erection veritably explode from his unitard. He removed it, and because he was going commando, was instantly ready to penetrate. He went right to it and shoved it in, making Yura cry out in pain and anger.

            “Lube, at _least_!” he demanded.

            “Ugh. Fine.”

            Cain removed his penis and applied lube to all areas, making his next entry swift and easy. He started thrusting so rapidly he looked like a hummingbird on ecstasy, and Yura really did not enjoy it. He preferred when it went in deeper, and even if it took longer than normal to reach climax, he liked to have that satisfaction of true prostate stimulation. Cain just did not do it for him. However, he did not dare ask for him to go deeper, because that would suggest he was enjoying it and Cain would then think he’d won. And he had not.

            “God, you are so good…” Cain grunted, beginning to go even faster so he’d get more pleasure. Yura did not. He just sat there in silence, gritting his teeth and hoping that Cain would apply just a little more lube. As loose as it was, he wasn’t sure that his asshole could take this.

            Cain could really go for a long time, and it was ages before he finally came. He withdrew instantly and zipped his unitard back up, then wiped up any stray splashes of lube and cum that had been flung around. Yura put his clothes back on, but as soon as he tried to walk, he clenched his ass cheeks and winced. Cain had been _brutal_ with him.

            “The pain will go in a few weeks. Maybe you’ll be able to walk normally soon. Let’s hope so,” Cain said nonchalantly.

            As he was walking to the door, Yura looked back and shot him a withering glare. Cain gave him a mocking queen-like wave in reply, to which Yura gave him the middle finger. He left the room and slammed the door behind him, hoping that no one would notice his my-ass-just-got-destroyed walk.


	33. Chapter 33

_Chapter the Thirty-Third_

“OH, VOVA!”

            Medvedev was blindfolded, his limbs tied to a crucifix and was being fiercely anally penetrated. A massive pair of clamps were holding his ass wide open, while Vladimir Putin’s entire forearm was thrust inside. He was wearing an elbow-length ridged glove, made especially for this purpose, giving Dmitry Medvedev an intense and overwhelming amount of pleasure.

            “Shut the fuck up, you disgusting slut!” Putin cried, knowing that degrading language really turned Dmitry on. He grabbed Dmitry’s hair so he could get a better grip to shove his hand in even deeper. Dmitry had no idea how much further he could go in, because he reckoned that Vladimir was pretty much inside his stomach. And it felt _good_.

            “Now it’s time for something bigger, you whore,” he growled, removing his hand from Medvedev’s ass. As it slipped out, Dmitry hissed at the wonderful feeling of the ridged glove against his tender flesh, wondering how much longer he could last. He really was reaching climax, and it was set to be the best one of his life.

            Putin drew up a large and terrifying mechanical sex toy and placed it next to Dmitry’s wide-open ass. He widened the clamps a bit, making Dmitry grit his teeth and screw his eyes shut, then pushed a 7-inch wide, ribbed, ridged, lumped and bumped dildo onto the end of the lengthy piston-like bar of his awesome sex toy.

            He took out a jar of lube bigger than the hugest milk bottles one can purchase, and slathered it all over Dmitry’s anus, and the dildo. Since Medvedev was blindfolded, he had no idea what was going on, but was not allowed to ask because his master did not allow him.

            Putin aimed the dildo with the perfect trajectory, then turned it on and let it loose. Dmitry cried out as it thrust into his asshole, but it was wide enough, so it did not hurt too much. And God, the sensation was amazing. Each protrusion on the dildo gave him a different delicious sort of pleasure, sliding through the entrance, ramming down the hole, slamming his prostate. O, how Dima liked it rough!

            “OH… VOVA… OH MY GOD… VOVA… VOVA!” Medvedev screamed through gritted teeth.

            “You fucking bitch, address me with _respect_!” he barked.

            “I’m sorry… master… I am so sorry… Forgive me… Punish me… I have been so very badly behaved…”

            Vladimir whacked the speed of the toy up to a horsepower a car could run on. Dmitry was now shamelessly screaming, since this was a pleasure too intense to hold inside. It was a mixture of extreme happiness, but extreme pain, since his asshole was getting pounded with a force that assholes really should not be pounded with. It was his ultimate BDSM fantasy.

            Suddenly, there was a burning and unwanted pain, so Medvedev screamed their safe word:

            “COMMUNISM! COMMUNISM! COMMUNISM!”

            Putin immediately turned off the sex toy and removed the clamps from his anus. He swiftly untied him from the cross and removed his blindfold, then asked what happened. Dmitry simply pointed to his ass.

            It was _ripped_ as fuck. Normally, since he was Putin’s slut, his anus was pretty wide, but now it was abnormally so, with gross exposed bits of raw flesh and blood around the edges. It looked like his ass cheeks were beginning to sever.

            “Oh, baby, I am so sorry…” Putin soothed, grabbing his extensive first aid kit.

            “It’s okay, master,” Dmitry replied, trying to battle through the pain. “I am sorry that I wasn’t ready to be fucked so well. It’s all my fault.”

            “Don’t say that, darling!” Vladimir exclaimed. “You were perfect! I am so sorry for hurting you.”

            He wiped Dmitry’s ass with an antiseptic wipe to remove all the blood and lube (as well as the gross bacteria that were undoubtedly hiding there), then patted it with a dry wipe to stop the blood flow. It was very sore, and stung a lot, but Dmitry felt okay with his loving master and dominant caring for him like this.

            Once Dima’s anus had returned to its usual size, Vladimir could see the true extent of the damage. It was not as bad as he’d feared, so it would take just a bit of first aid to patch it up. First, he got a nice wad of bandage, and placed that over his asshole, using some strips of medical tape to secure it in place. He used more of this to put pieces of gauze over the tears, sealing the wounds with antiseptic cream before doing so, just to speed up the healing process.

            It was a bit painful for Dima to sit anywhere, so Vladimir got him a high-tech floating bed (this is the future, guys) which he could lie on his front upon. Dmitry did so, then was led away by some common soldiers. You see, Putin needed to speak with someone.

            “Master Shrek,” he began, bowing at the great ogre’s feet. “I have disturbing news.”  
            Shrek, the leader and overlord of The Swamp, who had just entered the room, nodded with a concerned expression on his mighty green face.

            “What is it, Adjutant General Putin?” he asked, his impressive booming voice echoing through the main control room.

            “A huge enemy ship has been spotted at the edge of our territory. A few patrols went out on the frontier, and two of them engaged with them. They were both destroyed. It looks like the humans have improved their firepower, sir.”

            “Curses…” Shrek muttered to himself, his wonderful Scottish accent inspiring awe and wonder within Putin’s heart.

            “What are we going to do, Master Shrek?” Putin asked, finding himself bowing his head slightly in the presence of such a grand and magisterial being.

            In his magical, commanding voice, Shrek replied: “I have an idea…”


	34. Chapter 34

_Chapter the Thirty-Fourth_

“I am so fucking tired of this ship,” Sonja declared.

            “Oh my God, I _know_ ,” Bautista, her fighter for the day, replied.

            “I have had such a shitty time! Sometimes I think that it would be better to just join the enemy.”

            Bautista’s eyes widened.

            “Join the enemy…” he muttered.

            “Join the enemy…” Sonja echoed.

            “Join the enemy!”  
            “JOIN THE ENEMY!”

            “Let’s do it!”  
            They high-fived, then began to make plans. They eventually decided to grab a starfighter, unofficially defect, then go to the Swamp and become a part of the enemy army. However, they did not want to do it on their own.

            So, they went around and asked people if they wanted to go with them. It was a rather stupid idea, seeing as anyone could just go and rat out the traitors to Commander Milankovic and they’d be executed faster than you can say ‘Shrek’. However, they were in luck and only asked people that were interested in betraying their cause.

            “That sounds like a rad idea!” Jaden exclaimed. “Rebelling against authority is _so_ much fun. It’s like, the government really doesn’t know what’s best for us. We need to put the power in the hands of the people. School is pointless, parents are pointless, everyone is just pointless to obey. They’re all hearing things, but are they really listening? Do they understand that the foundations of their power want to _take it from them_?”

            Jaden was speaking a whole load of nothing, but Bautista pretended to be interested. Sonja gave him a Laurentina face, and told him to shut up and just join them. Jaden obeyed her, since he was kind of attracted to her sexy face and bod.

            Next they sought out Olivera. Bautista wanted her to be a part of their venture, since he was quite in love with her, but she seemed hesitant.

            “Are you sure this is wise? We’ll be killed as soon as the enemy see our ship!”

            “Serenity, trust me, it will be okay. We are passionate and wily enough to make this work. But, Serenity, do the gods put this passion in our minds, or does his own wild desire become each man’s god? My mind has been driving me on for a long time, either to fight, or to enter into some great venture; nor is it content with peace and quiet. Or allegiance to this organisation! Serenity, we must make haste and join the greater good! You see how disarrayed we are here, corrupt and motley, while the enemy feast from ivory dishes and sleep on downy beds!

            “Serenity, if you would not be persuaded by this, be persuaded by the prospect of our enduring love! In this place, we cannot let it grow, but how much more strengthened would it be if we went through with the ultimate flight: defecting and joining the merry enemy? Think of this, dear Serenity, before opening your sweet lips and letting your words, with wings, reach my ears. I will undoubtedly go towards the path of true glory, but if you went with me by my side, it would be the greatest honour. Take my hand, and we will fly.”

            Olivera was completely won over by Bautista’s eloquent speech (of which precisely _none_ was stolen from Virgil), so pressed her hand into his and kissed him full on the mouth. He took her by the waist and returned the kiss, injecting an extra amount of romance and suaveness. Olivera got wet immediately, but contained it, as the dangerous deed now summoned her. (That wasn’t stolen from Virgil either.)

            Sadly, no one else wanted to join them in their rebellion, so the four of them decided to go alone. They went to the docking station and hopped inside Bautista’s starfighter. There weren’t enough seats for them all, so Jaden and Sonja sat on the floor, holding onto the sides of the craft.

            “Off we go to join the Swamp!” Bautista declared.

            With that, they zoomed off.

            It did not take long to reach the Swamp, since it was very close to the ship, but as soon as they were in view, they came under fire.

            “Quick, show them something white!” Olivera screamed. “They need to know we mean no harm!”

            While Bautista hailed them through the video connection, Jaden grabbed the white cloth contained within the ship’s emergency survival kit and shoved it in the front windshield. Bautista also flashed some white lights at them, in the ancient language of Morse code, saying SOS. The Swamp rapidly stopped firing on them.

            The starfighter gently floated into the docking station, the door of which had been opened for them, and landed with a small thud and puff of smoke. The four humans disembarked, and were instantly struck by the sheer beauty of this ship. Despite its dank and gloomy name, the Swamp was a super-modern, high-tech facility. Everything was white, bright and clean, with a real air of orderliness and organisation. Kindly-looking soldiers welcomed them, and a small escort led them to the main control room.

            Now, this room was a real architectural treat. It was painted all in white, with very modern and minimalist decor, the rays of highly efficient lights just glowing through the edges of the wall panels, slick and simple display screens punctuating the very plain facade. Here and there a red or green light flashed, and a mellifluous woman’s voice announced something in the language of their people.

            The four humans gazed upon the scene, having just crossed the threshold of some very smooth automated sliding doors, and wondered at how the enemy could have constructed such a beautiful spaceship.

            “I see you are impressed,” a deep, disembodied Scottish voice grumbled. “Welcome to the Swamp.”  
            A huge, high-backed chair span around, revealing a monstrous green figure, wearing a clean white robe and black latex gloves. Shrek.

            “My dear General…” Bautista immediately said, dropping to one knee and bowing his head.

            “It’s _Master_ to you, swine,” Shrek retorted, doffing Bautista’s insignificant head out of his way.

            “I am sorry, master; we are your ever-grateful suppliants. Please accept us as members of your race; we will do anything you wish of us.”

            “We will, Shrek, we will,” the other three chanted in unison.

            “How can I be sure that you won’t betray me, you cretins?” he thundered. “How can _I_ trust a human?”

            “We are your eternal slaves, O Shrek,” they replied, again in unison. “We would never betray you.”  
            Shrek pondered on this for a moment, then nodded slowly.

            “I believe you. Now, time for your initiation into the Swamp, and then I will tell you of your mission.”

            He grabbed Jaden with one almighty hand and ripped off all his clothing in one swift motion. He began to scream and struggle, but Shrek covered his mouth with one of his huge green hands, then, with the other, penetrated his ass. At first, he only put one finger in (which he’d lubed up with his plentiful earwax), as it was so massive, but when Jaden let out a sigh of pleasure, he went in with two. The young boy screamed, since this was actually a world of pain, but could not get out of Shrek’s iron grip.

            “Come here, blonde female,” he ordered. Sonja did as commanded. “Now, suck my dick.”

            Sonja whimpered as Shrek hoiked up his robe to reveal a startling, veiny, devastatingly erect penis. How could she fit all of that— all of that length, all of that girth— inside her mouth? She was going to choke and die! She swallowed hard to get some moisture in her throat, opened her lips, then put them around the monstrous member of the ogre.

            Immediately, she almost gagged. She was barely even deep-throating it, but it was so long that it touched her uvula with ease. She squeezed her thumb in the palm of her hand to stop herself throwing up, and then started sucking.

            Shrek let out a mighty roar as Sonja began to pleasure him, whilst continuing to anally fuck Jaden Smith. His ass was inflamed, swollen, red and almost tearing, and he was sobbing profusely. Shrek did not care.

            “Strange European man, come and eat my balls.”  
            Eating balls was a particular sex act that Shrek had a _huge_ thing for, and for the person doing it, it was grotesque. He never cleaned down there, so they would have to nibble on all his grime and gunk that had built up over many months. There was a 100% infection rate from him to his lovers, since he harboured many STDs down in his jungle. That, and another special surprise.

            Bautista knelt in front of Shrek’s chair and located his testicles. He had to get underneath Sonja to access them, so Shrek made him do extra by making him put his dick inside of Sonja while he went for the balls. Bautista had to lie on his back on the chair, his head right amongst Shrek’s testicles, while Sonja sat on his dick in order to suck Shrek’s. Neither Sonja nor Bautista wanted to do this, but Shrek threatened to snap their necks if they did not obey him.

            Once the sex puzzle had been put together, Shrek made Olivera come over. By now, he had given up covering Jaden’s mouth to stop his cries, so currently he had a hand free. With that, he fingered Olivera’s vagina. His fingers were so colossal that he could only fit two inside Olivera’s glory hole, and even then she was almost being ripped up.

            Shrek could hold both humans on his fingers comfortably, so he started bouncing them up and down. Jaden’s ass could not take it anymore, so he clenched for all he was worth to stop everything coming out as it tore violently. Olivera could not clench her vagina, so had to endure the roughness. She wasn’t even wet enough! It was agony!

            “QUICK, HUMANS! GET DOWN!” Shrek screamed. “I NEED TO EJACULATE IN YOUR FACES!”

            All four humans were flung off him by a sweep of his hand, and they lined up in preparation for the stream. Shrek took turns cumming into each of their mouths, making sure they swallowed a sizeable amount. Once this was done, he carefully put their clothes back on, then made them lie in a praying position at his feet.

            “Now, my young friends. Your mission. You have now been infected with my Essence, which is fatal to any of those petty swines on your laughable ship. Your task is to spread it to as many people as possible, but this can only be done through sex. Male humans, you have an advantage, as you can easily cum on and in just about anything, but for the female humans it is a little more of a challenge. Somehow, you must orgasm whilst they are inside of you, and then the essence is spread. Now go, I don’t want to see you until the entire enemy ship is dead.”

            “YES, MASTER SHREK!” they all barked with military precision.

            In a perfect goose-step, they all returned to the starfighter. As they were flying back, they discussed their time at the Swamp.

            “My ass hurts so much… I’ve never been fucked by a man… No, an ogre! AN OGRE!” Jaden whined, wincing as he adjusted his sitting position.

            “It wasn’t that bad, actually,” Bautista said.

            “That’s because you _like_ men!” Jaden replied. “And you didn’t get your ass torn in two by his fucking finger!”

            “At least it wasn’t your _vagina_!” Olivera put in. “That was worse than giving birth! It was like putting the baby _back_ up there!”

            “I WAS BEING FUCKED BY ENDYMION AS WELL AS HAVING HIS DICK IN MY MOUTH!” Sonja interrupted. “I THINK I HAD IT WORST! I’m sorry, Endymion.”

            “It’s alright,” he said. “I found it as awkward as you did.”

            “Good. Seriously, guys, why did we do this in the first place? I think I dislocated my jaw, the amount I had to open my mouth to fit his cock in!”

            “ _You_ suggested it!” Jaden cried. “Don’t even go there!”

            There was silence for a few moments, as Sonja realised that she had been the cause of this. She shrugged.

            “It’s too late now. We’ve been infected with the Essence of Shrek. We might as well just spread it.”  
            The starfighter docked back at the ship, and they commenced their sexual mission.


	35. Chapter 35

_Chapter the Thirty-Fifth_

The next day dawned, and with it the return to the normal fighter and navigator pairings. Most of the pairings had unofficially gone back at night, so they could sleep in the same dorm, but Cain, for Yura, had other ideas.

            It started after dinner. Back in his dorm, Cain had produced a variety of butt plugs and laid them all out on the floor, starting at the smallest— a respectable size— and going all the way up to a gigantic 8-inch monster.

            “A slut like you would have no problem starting at three inches, I think,” Cain said, throwing Yura onto his front and tearing off his clothes. By now, Yura had given up in trying to fight back, so just submitted to this all-day rape-fest that Cain was putting him through. His anus was in agony.

            “Oh, fuck, shit, balls…” Yura hissed, as Cain slammed the 3-inch butt plug into his ass. Although it wasn’t too much of a stretch, he had not used enough lube, meaning that the friction was a horrible addition to the clusterfuck that this already was.

            “Shut up, whore!” Cain bellowed. “Or I’ll have to tie you up!”

            “Not in a million fucking years!” Yura replied, with just as much malicious venom.

            “Well then, my dear, I have a brilliant alternative…”

            He disappeared from the room, and returned with a French maid outfit on a hanger, complete with a small feather duster (that was actually a dildo) and frilly garters.

            “No… no, no, no, no, no, no… NO… _NO_ ,” Yura said, when he’d turned his head to see what abomination Cain was holding.

            “Well, Phobos, I like my girlfriends to at least look like girls,” Cain snarled back, grabbing him and forcing on the outfit.

            “Now that just shows your insecurities with your gay identity,” Yura stated, remembering the words of his best friend the morning after Yura had had an orgy with fourteen girls.

            “Oh, piss off!” Cain cried, slapping his face to shut him up (but really hurting inside, as Yura’s comment had struck a chord deep within his soul).

            By this point, Yura was in the full maid’s outfit. Cain finished up the bow to tie on the bonnet, then stepped back and admired the navigator.

            By the gods, he looked a sight. With a stupid-ass bonnet on his head, a feather duster in his hand and stilettos on his feet, he looked the part of slutty French maid, but the main portion of the outfit was just not perfect. He was tall as shit, so the lacy and frilly frock only just covered his genitals. It was very low as well, meaning Cain got a glimpse of Yura’s entire chest except the nipples. Clearly, it was fitted for a woman’s body, so it sat quite oddly on him. He was kind of scrawny (but lean cos he was a nav and that required fitness), so it didn’t look too bad, and his androgynous looks lent an air of rent-boy-for-a-very-niche-fetish to the ensemble. If he’d actually _wanted_ to wear it, and _worked_ it, he could have been incredibly sexy (for those who are into that). Come on, it was practically lingerie, and who can resist anyone— even a man— in that?

            “Now then, time for the next butt plug!” Cain announced, thoroughly aroused by the sight of Yura dressed as a French maid. He grabbed the four-inch one and lubed it up. “Bend over, slut.”

            Yura did so, while Cain instructed him on how to do it in the sexiest way. He wasn’t allowed to bend his knees, but had to stay steady and spread his legs a little bit to give his butt a real boost. He was not unused to walking in heels (as I’ve said before, do not judge Yury Konstantinov’s past exploits), so that wasn’t an issue, but he _really_ could not touch his toes, meaning a world of pain as he had to endure bending over in this way. A tear fell from his eye, as it hurt so much.

            Cain now introduced the four-inch butt plug into Yura’s ass. It was a bit of a snug fit, but not altogether unbearable. He’d gone way bigger before. And thus, Cain did the same.

            “Time for the real deal, bitch,” he declared.

            In quick succession, the next few butt plugs were put inside his asshole. Once he’d reached eight inches (which was _way_ easier for him than it was for Dmitry Medvedev at seven inches a couple of chapters ago), Cain decided to go to the next level.

            He got a very similar sex toy to the one that Putin had used on his own submissive, but this one was _way_ more extreme. There were about a dozen spikes to put dildos on, and Cain put a large one on every single spike. In the middle was the 8-inch one, with a forest of smaller dildos surrounding it. They were all pointed in the same direction, forming a sort of phallic arrow. It was obvious that Yura could not take this one standing up, so Cain got his restraints and tied him in a crucifix formation to the wall.

“Can I just say, for future reference, that I do not give my consent?” Yura warned him.

“Not like I care,” Cain replied dismissively. “This place never takes rape allegations seriously. It’s got me out of many a sticky situation.”

“You are so disgusting.”

Cain positioned the sex monster in the right way, looked at the trajectory and realised that even Yura’s ass would need a little help to stay stretched enough. He delved into his toy bag and found his favourite item: the MEGA ass-stretcher. It was a sex toy he’d make himself, using a complex system of gears, cranks, pulleys and ropes to widen the anus up to the size of a person’s head. The main part of the device was a metal ring that was placed inside the asshole, which would widen as the other person pressed the foot pedal down to operate it. Cain thus set up the toy, and pressed the foot pedal a few times to get Yura’s ass as wide as it could be.

            “Сука блядь… Это пиздец… Блядь, блядь, блядь, блядь…” Yura muttered, as his anus was put through this torture. (I put his incredibly rude dialogue into Russian, as it is simply too rude. If you know what it says, then I am sorry for corrupting your innocent mind.*)

            _*And because I know you all want to know, it literally says ‘bitch fuck (this phrase can’t be accurately translated into English)... this is fucked up… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...’_

            “You have a foul mouth on you, slut!” Cain noted. “I’ve a good mind to shut you up!”

            Yura sighed heavily. “Just get this over with…”

            Cain switched on the sex machine and stepped back to watch it pummel Yura’s ass. With each penetration of the dildo forest, the navigator uttered another stream of terrible swears. He’d never felt this much pain since back when he was fifteen and… Actually, that’s probably not a story to be recounted here.

            The evil fighter turned the machine up to eleven, so it was going just about as fast as a lad in a pimped-up car on the motorway. This could no longer in any way be construed as pleasure— Yura was a _freak_ in sex, but even this was too much. He was in extreme pain. Agony. It was unbearable.

            Cain, meanwhile, was getting very aroused at this sight. He was jerking off while watching Yura’s ass get pounded, then noticed the Yura’s dick was no longer hard.

            “What the fuck is up, whore? I’d have thought a slut like you would find this so arousing!”  
            Yura was in too much pain to speak, so just shook his head.

            “Aww, little navvie…” Cain cooed sarcastically, stroking his hair. “This is too much for even your whorey ass, eh?”

            Yura spat in Cain’s face.

            “WHAT THE _FUCK_ WAS THAT?” Cain screamed. “GET OUT, YOU BASTARD!”

            Cain turned off the sex machine, untied Yura from the wall, put his normal clothes back on then kicked him to get him to move. However, Yura’s ass was in so much agony that he couldn’t walk, so Cain gave him a wheelchair he’d purchased especially for these situations. Yura was mortified, but had no other choice, so got hauled into the wheelchair, then left Cain’s dorm.

            By now it was morning, but too early for anyone to be up. Yura was thankful for this, as it meant no one would see him looking like a right idiot. He could hardly control the wheelchair, and kept accidentally driving into the walls. Curse Cain for making him do this!

            Yura finally reached his dorm, and knocked on the door. Deimos had been asleep, but roused himself and shuffled to open it. As soon as he saw it was Yura, he smiled and gave him a hug so enthusiastic that the wheelchair shot back and made both of them crash into the wall.

            Deimos had actually sat on Yura’s lap to give him a hug, and even after they hit the wall, he didn’t look to be getting off him.

            “I’ve been so worried! Where were you? What’s happened?” he asked breathlessly.

            “Cain…” was Yura’s only reply.

            “Aww, Phobos! Don’t worry about it, though, you’re with me now.”

            Deimos gave him another hug, which Yura found very lovely. He actually snuggled into the embrace, _and_ hugged back, putting his head on Deimos’ shoulder and inhaling his delicious scent. Yes, it was _that_ proper. Yura could not even hide his smile.

            “You don’t even understand… The thought that another fighter had you was just so…” Deimos began, but realised how romantic that sounded, so shut up.

            Yura slightly broke away from the hug to look up at Deimos with a highly incredulous expression.

            “You mean that?”

            Deimos blushed. “Well, yeah… I guess…”

            Yura did not know what to say. The sexual tension was _real_ , and the butterflies were _there_. His eyes were as wide as his tortured ass, and his mouth was open. He smiled slightly, incredibly surprised that Deimos was actually saying something so sweet.

            “I’m just glad you’re back,” Deimos said, kind of hoping to change the subject because he’d thought he was being too forward. “Come in.”

            Yura did not take Deimos’ suggestion. Instead, he rose up as much as he was able, put his arms around Deimos’ shoulders and kissed him. Hard. Deimos started at this sudden turn of events, but fell victim to Yura’s delicious lips, so closed his eyes and kissed back. His hands found a place to sit— around Yura’s shoulders, as Yura had moved his hands down to Deimos’ waist— and he got himself into a far more comfortable position (that is, straddling).

            Deimos could not help himself now; he was getting quite heated by all this kissing. His hands travelled down to Yura’s waist, feeling everything along the way. He went back up around the front, having a little taste of his abs, then grasped his jacket collar and pulled him in closer for an even more erotic kiss. Yura sensed the change of mood, which made him smile just a little.

            “We’re out in the open!” Deimos exclaimed, very out of breath from their romantic calisthenics.

            “Oh, we are!”

            Deimos hopped off Yura’s lap, grabbed the arms of the wheelchair and pulled him into the dorm, giving him the most romantic and sexual look ever. Once the door was closed, Deimos started making out with him again, effortlessly lifting him up and depositing him on his back on the bottom bunk. This was clearly sexual, but somehow they managed to keep their clothes on. There was too much romance in this for them to want to whip ‘em out just yet.

            They made out without a break for absolutely ages. They didn’t even say anything during it. They just kept going and going and going. It was probably because they’d both wanted to do this for such a long time, but didn’t have the chance. They had to keep their desires to themselves, partly due to the more sexual nature of the nav-fighter combinations, and partly due to their disastrous first attempt at intimacy. All their feelings had just pent up over this time, and they didn’t want to release them because they both thought it was weird to feel _romantically_ towards your partner. But now, all the walls had been broken down, and they were truly going for it.

            A noise sounded over the intercom.

            “All fighters and navigators, report for morning briefing,” an automated voice announced.

            Deimos broke away and looked around.

            “Means we’ve gotta go,” he said, with a melancholy air.

            Yura smiled sadly, but got ready. (Yes, he could walk now. Just.)

            As he walked with Deimos to the briefing room, he remembered his feelings for that _other_ fighter. Apollo, was that it? Yes, that was the one. During the briefing, he kept looking at him, thinking weird thoughts of how he’d be so disappointed that Yura was ‘cheating’ on him and getting off with another guy. Obviously, they weren’t going out, but Yura’s mind was a little weird and autocompleted his thoughts. He actually liked this fighter enough to want to go out with him, which was troublesome, because DEIMOS. They’d just fucking snogged for about half an hour! If they weren’t a thing now, Yura had _no_ idea what would make them a thing. He felt like a whore. Maybe Cain was right.


	36. Chapter 36

_Chapter the Thirty-Sixth_

Yura’s morning was spent training with Deimos, doing simulations together and generally being inseparable. If one had looked upon them from afar, they would have definitely noticed the intimacy between them, and drawn some conclusions. A few people did notice, and found it adorable. Some of them were kind of jealous that they couldn’t be so close with their own partner.

            At lunch, in the mess hall, Deimos was forced by Cain to sit with him and Alice. That left Yura alone with a few random navs, giving him lots of time to think and ponder.

            Mostly, his thoughts were of Deimos and Apollo. He found himself staring at them, admiring everything hot about their amazing selves. He started thinking about how much he’d like to make love to Apollo, so his eyes travelled to his divine face. He didn’t realise, but when he did, he found that Apollo was staring right back at him. Obviously, they caught each other’s eye, and Yura wanted to look away, but Seryozha gave him a smile so enticing that he was well and truly hooked.

            Yura looked back at him like ‘oh, _me_? You cheeky bitch!’. Seryozha nodded slightly, with a very naughty smirk. Yura smirked back, letting his eyelids droop just a little in that way of ‘oh, you got me, let’s fuck, I am so horny right now’. Seryozha looked rather smug, and unconsciously licked his lips. Yura gave him a full-on smile, still looking very aroused and sultry.

            Since Seryozha was a fighter, and had a good rep with Commander Milankovic, he’d managed to get some fresh strawberries on board, which he had been consuming prior to the eyesex with Yura. He was still quite hungry, so he plucked another one out of the bowl and ate it in a _very_ suggestive way, still giving Yura bedroom eyes. (Yura thought it a rookie move to be using fruit— FRUIT!— in a flirty way, but appreciated the gesture. Then Seryozha licked his finger in such a sexual way that Yura forgot all about his critique and focused on his burgeoning erection.)

            Yura subtly pointed to the door, and Seryozha gave him a look of ‘oh, really? You are _such_ a freak! I like it’. They stood up at the same time and left the room without a word.

            “So where are you going?” Yura asked, making mock small talk when he knew _exactly_ what was going to happen.

            “The gym on the training floor… I’ve gotta go work out.”

            “You know, I could use some exercise as well…”

            By this point, they had reached the elevator. They stepped inside, and as soon as the door was closed, they threw themselves at each other and started making out like two hungry lions. It was totally empty, so they went at it unabated and unrestrained. It was totally lustful, with all kinds of fondling and thirsty sloppiness. Literally, their hands went _everywhere_ , not even in a gentle and caressing way. It was proper fondling. (O, how unlike the Yuryozha we are used to!)

            The lift reached its destination. Deimos was standing outside, and the doors slid open to reveal Yura and Seryozha in a corner, making out for all it was worth. He was filled with a sudden and justified rage. How dare his fucking _slut_ of a navigator get off with someone else?! That fighter wasn’t even hot! Well, apart from the chiselled jawline, God-given cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, lustrous blond hair, perfect body and divine smile…

            “ _PHOBOS?!_ ” he screamed.

            Yura immediately got off Seryozha, looking incredibly caught off-guard and _incredibly_ guilty.

            “Deimos… Oh, oh my God… сука блядь… I…”

            Deimos gave him the most furious glare in the history of the world, then turned on his heel and stormed off.

            Yura felt like he wanted to cry. He put his face in his hands and shook his head, in total disbelief that that had just happened. Seryozha was not much better.

            “I should not have done that...” he said, feeling way sorrier than words could convey. “I am so sorry…”

            “No, _I_ shouldn’t have done that… I am such a whore… Oh my God… I’m sorry…”

            They parted without another word.


	37. Chapter 37

_Chapter the Thirty-Seventh_

Deimos was running for his life. To where, he did not know. All he knew is that he wanted to get away from his fucking bastard navigator, Phobos. Why did he get with that other fighter? They’d just poured out their hearts to each other _that very morning_! Did he even mean it? Was he just leading him on? That evil cunt!

            “Watch your ass!” Cain shouted, as Deimos had just barrelled head-on into him.

            “Sorry, Cain, but I gotta go,” Deimos replied, trying to get past him, but being blocked by Cain grabbing him by the hair to stop him.

            “What’s up, myshonok?”

            “Nothing, Cain. Nothing. Now please let me past.”

            “Nah nah nah. I know that look. You got screwed over again, didn’t you?”

            Deimos gave him a defiant look, but knew he’d been found out.

            “It was Phobos…” he said, battling through another wave of fury that was washing over him.

            “Oh, _was it_ now? Shoulda known! Isn’t he _such_ a slut?”

            “I don’t care about labels, Cain. He fucked with me. We were getting it on in the morning, then in the afternoon I see him making out with another fighter! I am so pissed.”

            Cain smiled at him like he knew something.

            “I think I know what you need,” he said. “A nice man to fuck your troubles away. How does that sound?”

            “As long as I get to be on top.”

            Cain agreed to this, so they went into a training simulator and put the blackout curtains down. They both stripped off, then Deimos got right to it by spanking the hell out of Cain’s ass. His dainty hand absolutely pounded Cain’s pale flesh, making both his ass cheeks go as red as lobsters. Cain was unused to being the submissive, but found himself loving it.

            “Forgot lube, fuck this…” Deimos muttered angrily to himself, too irate to get the full amount of pleasure. He spat on his hand, rubbed it in, then shoved a finger inside Cain’s asshole.

            “Tight little motherfucker, aren’t you?” he said, sort of to Cain and sort of to himself. “We’ll have to work on that…”

            Deimos started pummelling Cain’s anus with his finger, finding it to be very clean inside. Almost as if he knew this was coming… Curious. There was not a single bit of dirt, and not even that much friction. It was lovely!

            A second finger was introduced, giving Cain all kinds of feelings that he’d never experienced before. He adored the sensation of stuff up his ass, and he did not realise until now. When masturbating, he was strictly a dick kind of guy, but now he really fancied using a dildo or two on himself. Even a butt plug… During the day… Gosh, there were so many erotic possibilities.

            “I give up with this,” Deimos hissed. “Fisting time.”

            He hoiked up a load of saliva and slathered it all the way up his arm, then jammed his hand in. There was an almighty stab of pain as his anus forced itself wider to accommodate Deimos’ hand, but Cain clenched really hard because _this was so amazing_.

            Deimos unfurled his fingers and started to get rough, making Cain let out very submissive screams.

            “Fuck Phobos… Fuck him… Fuck him so much…” Deimos muttered to himself, smacking Cain’s ass impulsively with his free hand.

            He was kind of using Cain as a release for his anger, rather than a thing to fuck, so Cain was in a small amount of agony right now. He sucked it up, thinking that this was how rough things normally were, and focused on the tiny shots of pleasure amongst the pain.

            Deimos gave up with anal, so withdrew his arm and wiped it on his unitard.

            “Suck my fucking cock, Cain. Now,” he demanded.

            Cain obeyed his orders without question, really enjoying being told what to do and being treated like this. It was actually so arousing.

            “Ahhhh… there we go…” Deimos breathed, as Cain began to give him a great BJ. In terms of submissive things, blowjobs were the only things in which Cain had any experience, since he gave them quite often to higher-ranking officers in order to get promotions and medals. He knew just how to please a horny and thirsty dude, which meant Deimos was in good hands.

            It didn’t take long for Deimos to cum, and Cain swallowed it without even being forced to.

            “Right,” Deimos said, putting his unitard back on. “We need to get revenge on that bitch Apollo.”

            “I thought this was about Phobos?” Cain asked, wiping the cum from his mouth.

            “Well, yes, it is, but I don’t want to fuck him up. I like his ass too much.”

            “He’s a good fuck, isn’t he?”

            “Anyway! Don’t remind me that you’ve fucked him too! Let’s discuss revenge!”

            “Alright, alright, alright. Sorry. Revenge. How about… laxatives? I’ve got some really strong ones from the Colonies in my dorm…”  
            “Ew! That’s gross! What fuckhead would give someone laxatives?”

            (Olivera would have blushed, had she heard this.)

            Cain shrugged.

            “I dunno. Just a thought. Maybe we could put itching powder inside his unitard? That would be classic.”  
            Deimos snorted. “That sounds glorious. But where the fuck will we get itching powder?”

            Cain’s face fell. “Oh. Oh yeah. Well, never mind. I have other ideas…”


	38. Chapter 38

_Chapter the Thirty-Eighth_

Sonja was ready to infect someone with the Essence of Shrek. Her fighter, Mat, was the most obvious choice, since he was sleeping just next to her. She climbed up to his bunk, slithered under the covers and between his legs, then began to give him a handjob.

            Matthias woke up, obviously, and peered under the sheet to find Sonja with his dick in her hands. He smiled, and bade her continue. So, Sonja started to suck his cock.

            “Oh, yeah…” Matthias said, sounding like a cowboy that has just seen a very hot saloon girl. Sonja smiled, dick still in her mouth.

            She knew that it would be impossible for her to have an orgasm, and thereby infect him with the Essence, so she started rubbing her clitoris at the same time as giving a BJ. It was going really well, until Gayle entered.

            Gayle still had the key card for this room, since it used to be hers and Matthias’, and she had had a stupid moment and thought the room was still hers. She heard some moans and strange noises, then got aroused.

            “Can I join in?” she asked.

            “Sure!” Matthias exclaimed. “We’ll come down, and then organise the threeway.”

            Matthias and Sonja clambered down, and decided that the best way for this to work is if Sonja sat on Matthias’ face, while Gayle sat on his dick. Matthias would be eating Sonja’s pussy, and Gayle would be getting her pussy destroyed by his monstrous member. It was gonna be rad.

            They organised themselves into this position, and then began to have some great fun. They went quite quickly, and before she knew it, Sonja was having an orgasm. She therefore infected Matthias with the Essence of Shrek, and when he came, he infected Gayle too. Shrek would have been _so_ proud of them.


	39. Chapter 39

_Chapter the Thirty-Ninth_

After a long day of training, Jaden returned to his dorm to find Laurentina lying on her bunk in sexy lingerie. He was immediately aroused, as she had on very suggestive and skimpy black lace underwear, not even covering her tits and vagina. He could see everything. And he liked it.

            “Come on, Misfit. Show me how freaky you can be,” Laurentina said, looking sultry.

            Jaden inwardly punched the air, and delved into his bag to grab some kinky sex toys. He got a blindfold, a ball gag and a pair of handcuffs, which he made Laurentina put on. He handcuffed her to the corner of the bunk bed, and made her sit with her back to it and spread her legs. She did so, incredibly excited for what was to come.

            Firstly, Jaden produced a pair of scissors which were meant for cutting material. He advanced on Laurentina’s bra, carefully snipping one strap off. At this first contact, Laurentina inhaled sharply through her nose. With the lack of sight, everything was just that much more heightened and erotic. She was wet already.

            Jaden cut the second strap off, and the front of the bra fell forwards, revealing a perky pair of chocolatey tits. Gosh, how he loved black women! He unhooked the bra at the back, then cast it away.

            Next, he lay on his front and passed the very tip of the scissors over Laurentina’s underwear, making her shudder with anticipation. He started cutting them from the hem and down the middle, the cold metal occasionally pressing into her clit and making her gasp (well, through her nose). Once a sufficient cut was made, Jaden’s fingers deftly ripped them off, his warm flesh touching Laurentina, who was so ready for those fingers to just go inside her.

            Jaden then reached into his bag and hauled out a massive jar of Nutella. He popped his finger in and got out a nice big blob, which he then spread all the way down Laurentina’s front. He placed a generous amount on her neck, so he could give her a hickey as he sucked it off. Once this was done, he moved down, his tongue-work expert and arousing, licking up all the Nutella on its way. He’d spread some on her tits, which he sucked off. He’d spread some in a line all the way down her stomach, around her belly button, and both of them took great joy in removing it. He’d even put some on her shaven pussy, just above the clit, so he got _really_ close. Laurentina was shivering with desire, and willed Jaden to keep moving his tongue downwards.

            And he did. He made sure no Nutella was still in his mouth, then licked all the way from her clit to the vaginal entrance. The first pass was long, languid and slow, as if he were getting a feel for what she had down there. Laurentina was about to explode with anticipation, and then Jaden entered her vagina.

            She threw her head back in exultation, wishing she could speak. However, she found the ball gag sexier, so she did not complain or use their safe word (a signal, in this case). Jaden had a tongue as long as a giraffe’s, and it reached so deep in Laurentina swore she’d never been eaten out better.

            Jaden worked hard to make Laurentina cum, and it worked very well. She was so moist he didn’t need to think about lube, and his face was getting soaked just being in there. Then, wise words from a prostitute entered his mind: the clit is where it’s at. So, he removed his tongue from her vagina, replaced it with a few fingers, then started pounding her clitoris.

            Laurentina was just about climaxing now, and thrashing about in her bonds. The handcuffs, thankfully, were strong, so she did not suddenly break free. The element of bondage that her fighter had incorporated also really turned her on, so she was pretty much on the edge of orgasm.

            And before she knew it, she was there. She was a bit of a squirter, so her fluids went everywhere. It was almost as much as if she had a dick! God, it felt so great!

            “Oh, baby…” Jaden whispered, the sight of Laurentina like this making him really hot. “You are so good… so, so good…”

            Once Laurentina had lapped up the glow of the final waves of orgasm, Jaden removed her from her restraints and cleaned everything up.

            “So, how was that?” he asked. “We’ve never tried anything like that before.”

            “It was… oh my God… it was amazing. What did you lick off me?”

            “Nutella.”  
            Laurentina’s eyes lit up.

            “Do you have any left?” she asked excitedly.

            “Loads!” Jaden replied.

            He brought out the large jar and gave it to his navigator. She opened the lid, her face absolutely shining, then thrust an entire hand in. She brought out a gigantic globule and shoved it in her mouth.

            “Mmmmm… mmm… oh yes…” she muttered, licking the Nutella off her fingers.

            “I guess I’ll leave you to it, then?”

            Laurentina nodded, and focused on the delicious hazelnut spread.

            Some time later, she felt a bit ill. She attributed it to the Nutella, but in reality it was because she had been infected. Infected with the Essence. The Essence of Shrek.


	40. Chapter 40

_Chapter the Fortieth_

Seryozha was conducting some repairs on his starfighter. He hadn’t actually been out to space and used it yet, but for some reason, it was already fucked. He’d popped into the docking station one afternoon, and found the entire side splashed with paint in a menstrual-blood shade of red, as well as many of the internal structures and electronics ripped out and scattered about everywhere. He was fuming when he saw this, and knew exactly who this was down to. He let it go, since he was the bigger person, and just got on with fixing all his shit.

            He went to the quartermaster and inquired as to whether he had any paint stripper.

            “What the fuck?” he scoffed. “I do uniforms and shit; I’m not a grocery store! Piss off!”

            (Seryozha wasn’t actually sure what a grocery store was, having learned British English, but he pretended he was on the ball.)

            “Sorry, mate. Calm your shit. I was just wondering.”

            So, he left, and tried to find if there _were_ a grocery store on the ship. Obviously, there was not, and he worryingly ended up getting some paint stripper from the medical bay. He wasn’t entirely sure _why_ they had some, but did not argue.

            He poured the whole bottle into a bucket from the janitor’s closet (yes, there was one on the ship), dipped a hardy mop in, then started scrubbing off the paint. He felt like some menial immigrant labourer, and cursed Deimos in every language he knew. Some very rude words crossed his mind. Some very, _very_ rude words.

            One spot was so thick on the surface of the starfighter that Seryozha simply could not get it off. He threw the entire contents of the bucket onto it, and scrubbed so hard with the mop that pieces of it came off, but it was stuck right in there. And it looked like a dick. Could this day get any better?

            Next, he had to pretty much rewire the entire system, since Deimos had ripped it all out and chucked it everywhere in the docking station. First he had to collect all the bits, which took forever. Cain was standing in the corner, and chuckling his face off every time he saw Seryozha kneel down to pick something up. Many middle fingers were given to him.

            He thought he had collected everything, so hauled it all back to his starfighter and got to work on putting it back. Thank the gods he knew how to do this, otherwise he’d have been fucked. (It had taken him about a year of extra work to learn how the starfighters worked and how to repair them, by the way.)

            In order to do this properly, and not contaminate the delicate parts, he had to put on some gloves. For some odd reason, the gloves he picked out of his toolkit inside the starfighter were both _FILLED_ with cum, so he marched up to Cain and hurled them in his face. The cum went all over him, and he ran away without a word to clean himself up.

            Seryozha did not want to use the foul gloves anymore, so he broke the front windshield of Cain’s starfighter, climbed in and stole his. He literally could not care less about the damage he’d caused. Cain could go suck it.

            Now becoming quite hot from all his extensive exertions, Seryozha removed his shirt. This incurred a few thirsty glances from some loitering fighters and navigators, but he was not really concentrating on that.

            He returned to his fucked-up starfighter and got down to some proper fixing. It didn’t take too long, since Deimos hadn’t _completely_ ruined everything, but when he had a look inside, Seryozha was horrified to discover that Deimos had wreaked havoc in there too. There was semen everywhere, the screens were all smashed, and vital components were strewn about all over the floor. Jeanne’s bit was totally untouched, however.

            Boiling over with rage, Seryozha got to work on repairing it all. It was a swift job, and he soon ended up in his chair, putting the final finishing touches on the brand new glass screens in front of him.

            And then, someone began to give him a hickey. (And bite his neck HARD.)

            “You wanna be a fighter or something, baby?” a familiar, Russian, raspy voice whispered.

            Seryozha whipped round, his fist poised to punch Deimos’ fucking nose off. Deimos screamed when he saw who it really was that he was kissing, stumbling back to get away from the disgusting fighter. He wiped his mouth and gagged.

            “ _WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SHIP?_ ” Deimos wailed.

            “It’s my fucking ship!” Seryozha replied, striking Deimos’ head with the back of his hand like a schoolmaster punishing a naughty student. “What the fuck did you just do?”

            “I thought you were Phobos!” he replied.

            Seryozha gave him the most incredulous look in the history of incredulous looks.

            “Yes, because I look _exactly_ like him!” he exclaimed, gesturing to all the bits that did not look like him (ie. everything).

            “Your arm looks similar! And that’s all I saw!”

            Seryozha’s incredulous look became even more incredulous.

            “Just get out,” he spat. “Next time I’ll slit your throat.”

            Deimos chuckled, since the results of his neck-kissing/biting had now made themselves very obvious. He’d really gone fast and hard, so there was a red bite mark right in plain sight.

            “What the fuck is it now?” Seryozha asked.

            “That hickey… bite mark… whatever. It looks great.”

            Seryozha’s eyes widened like a fat-ass planet, and he slapped his hand on his neck.

            “You motherfucker…”

            Deimos shrugged.

            “What can I say? Have a good afternoon, Apollo.”

            With that, he turned and left.

            Seryozha immediately inspected his neck in a reflective glass screen. God, Deimos was like a little lion or something; the bite mark was stupidly visible! How did he even manage to do that in one second? He was a true hickey king.

            After finishing the last of the repairs, Seryozha exited his starfighter with one hand firmly on his neck.


	41. Chapter 41

_Chapter the Forty-First_

That very evening, there was an eventful dinner time. Cain and Seryozha, as usual, sat on the same table, as they enjoyed having boasting competitions and fighting. Today they were discussing how many people they’ve banged at the same time. Cain was currently winning with his implausible story of how he managed to anally penetrate ten girls at once, but he immediately stopped in his tracks when he noticed a certain mark on his rival’s slender neck.

            “What’s that, eh?” he taunted, having a look at it.

            “Oh, shit…” Seryozha said to himself, trying in vain to cover it up again.

            “No no no, my dear Apollo. Let me have a little glimpse.”

            Seryozha tried not to throw up as Cain went up really close to have a peek, then started when he suddenly started screaming in manic laughter.

            “Oh, Apollo, you do make me laugh!” he said through the gargantuan guffaws. “You said you were such a dom! _Such_ a dom! But now… oh my God… now you are someone’s bitch! Someone’s SLUT! Who is it?”

            Seryozha rolled his eyes, trying to keep some dignity.

            “Let me guess, then…” Cain said, thoroughly enjoying this. “Endymion?”

            Bautista turned to face the person that had just said his name, and gave him a death stare.

            “Fuck off,” he said, before returning to his deep conversation with Olivera.

            “Hadrian?”

            Johan scoffed at such a ridiculous notion.

            “Who, then, fair Apollo? Nisus? Misfit? Even… a navigator? I think Phobos has got something of a dom in him…”

            “Oh, fuck off!” Seryozha said, dismissing Cain’s antics with one of his signature fabulous waves of the hand. He was also kind of blushing, since he began to think of all the stuff he’d done with that nav. (And there had been quite a bit.)

            Cain gave him a smug smile.

            “Of course. I know exactly who. Your navigator!”

            Jeanne stood up abruptly.

            “What the fuck, Apollo? You let someone else fuck you, without even fucking me? You are the sleaziest little slut I’ve ever met!”

            She climbed over her table and ran towards him, hand outstretched. At the last minute, she curled her fingers in and threw a powerful punch right in his face.

            “Go to hell, you bitch!” she screamed, running out of the room.

            “Oh, fucking hell… Jesus fucking Christ…” Seryozha muttered, catching all the blood that was dripping from his nose in cupped hands. “Are you kidding me?”

            Cain was beside himself with laughter now, no longer able to breathe. Some of the others were like that as well, since they were on Cain’s side and hated Seryozha. There was an awkward silence from the others, since they either did not know/care what was going on, or were on Seryozha’s side and had no idea what to do.

            “Oh my God, Apollo! It just keeps getting better and better! Look at yourself!”

            “Now you can shut up _right this second_ , before I do the same to you,” he replied, through gritted teeth since the pain really was unbearable.

            “I’ll take you to the medical bay, dear,” Cain teased, taking him by the hand like his boyfriend or some shit. Seryozha lashed out, making Cain basically slap himself in the face.

            “That is it,” Seryozha growled. “I’m not even going to talk to you anymore. You are a waste of time. Good evening, and I hope you choke on your borsch.”

            Seryozha got up, one hand still protecting his nose, then took himself off to the medical bay.

~

“Now, _you_ look really sexy,” the medical attendant said when he came in. Seryozha gave him a withering death-glare.

            “Fix it, please. I don’t have time for funny business.”

            The attendant chuckled to herself, then got some medical stuff. As she was cleaning the blood off, Seryozha got a look at himself in the reflection in her goggles. He almost screamed.

            “It’s _SIDEWAYS!_ ” he shrieked. “ _Fucking SIDEWAYS!_ ”

            The attendant patted him on the shoulder. “Calm down, dear. That’s what it often looks like. Don’t worry, I’m going to reset it. It will look just fine.”  
            Seryozha gave her an irate, but terrified look.

            “What does that mean?” he asked, very wary.

            “I just have to click it back into place,” she replied nonchalantly.

            “Great choice of word there…” Seryozha said, now actually dreading this. “Is there any way that it _won’t_ hurt?”

            The medical attendant gave him a sympathetic smile. “Nope,” she said. “It’s gonna hurt.”

            “It can’t hurt any more than it does now. Get it over and done with.”

            The attendant flicked a bit of her fiery, short, ginger hair out of her eyes, then prepared herself for the task ahead. She put her hands on either side of the fucked-up bridge of Seryozha’s fucked-up nose.

            “I’ll do it as fast as possible,” she said. “Ready.”

            “Yes. Alright. Fine. Just go.”

            “One… two…”

            As she said ‘three’, a massive crash and orchestra noise came from her phone. Some distinctive dramatic German music started blaring out. The attendant jumped at this, and her hands slipped. She almost pulled his nose off his face, leaving it even worse than it was before, with some raw flesh and cartilage now visible.

            “ _Пизда! Сука блядь! Чё за галима?!_ _WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?_ ”

            “BUTTS!” a deep and grumbling voice barked. “What did I tell you about leaving your phone on during the day?”

            The red-haired attendant went red. “Sorry, sir!” she called.

            “ _FIX THIS!_ ” Seryozha demanded, blood now freely running down all over his face and neck.

            “Alright, alright! I’m sorry!” she replied. “I’ll actually do it fast this time!”  
            Without warning, she clicked his nose back into a normal position. Another spray of blood poured out at this action, but Seryozha’s nose was pretty much back to normal, so it was alright. A bit of cartilage was still visible, but the attendant pushed that back under a gross flap of skin. She wiped her hands on her white scrubs, which duly got a nice red stain on them. Throughout this, Seryozha had fought back a tide of awful swears, but he now let them loose.

            “Woah there, fighter! Calm your ass!” she exclaimed. “You’re alright now!”

            She covered his nose in bandages, making it look incredibly stupid, then sent him on his way. O, how he’d be teased by Cain for this…


	42. Chapter 42

_Chapter the Forty-Second_

As all of this stupid shit was going on, Carlo and Johan were having a very important discussion.

            “I want to be your bitch, Hadrian,” Carlo said, for what appeared to be the fiftieth time.

            “I don’t want you to be my bitch,” Johan replied, trying to remain calm.

            “Why not? Are you telling me that you’ve had no sexual urges over the whole mission so far?”

            Johan sighed heavily. “No, I’m not saying that at all, but—”

            “Exactly! So why don’t you just fuck me?”

            “Because I don’t want to fuck you! Can you not drum that into your tiny mind?”

            “But Hadrian—”

            “No. Shut up, now. I do not want to have sex with you.”

            Carlo huffed and puffed.

            “Fine,” he eventually said. “I don’t think we’re compatible.”

            “Do you want to get reassigned?” Johan asked, quite taken aback.

            “Yes. If you won’t fuck me, then I want a new fighter. One that _will_ fuck me.”

            “Right then. Let’s go to the Commander and request a change.”

            “Alright. Come on.”

            They both got up at the same time and went to Milankovic’s office. Milankovic was busy eating some delicious borsch with black bread, and grumbled when he heard the door knock. He was happily surprised, though, to see that sexy navigator at the door— that one he liked, with the lovely jawline and cheekbones. He was prepared to listen to whatever he said.

            “We would like to request to be reassigned, sir,” Johan stated.

            “And why is that?” he replied. “Hurry up, my borsch is getting cold!” He clapped rapidly in Johan’s face.

            “We are not compatible, sir.”

            “Seems legit. Here’s some papers. Give them to me at evening briefing. Goodbye.”

            “Yes, sir!” they both barked in unison, saluting him.

~

They filled in the forms, and at evening briefing they handed them to Commander Milankovic.

            “Now then, officers,” Marat said. “These two—” and he pointed to Chon— “want to be reassigned. Anyone want to volunteer for this?”

            There was an awkward silence. A few of the pairings unconsciously moved closer to each other (looking at Sasha & Sasha and Sonja and Matthias here).

            “Really? We’re not in primary school here, this is a _military fucking organisation!_ Get it together! Someone _VOLUNTEER!_ ”

            Cain spoke up: “I volun—”

            “No.” Milankovic immediately shot him down. “I choose… Sherlock and Watson. Watson, go with Hadrian, and Sherlock, go with Antinous.”

            Carlo and Johan had a look at Alice and Matilda, their new partners. All four of them were quite annoyed, since they were all gay so wouldn’t be having sex at all. Alice and Matilda were also fucking anyway, and now they wouldn’t be able to. However, they held their tongues, because as Milankovic said, this _was_ a military organisation. You don’t exactly question your orders.

            “Yes, sir,” Matildice said in unison.

            “Navigators, move to the dorm of your new fighter. I will give you half an hour to relocate your things, and then I expect you back and doing some evening training.”

            “Yes, sir!” Carlo and Matilda cried, giving him a salute and disappearing.

            “Follow them, fighters! Jesus Christ, do I have to tell you everything?!”

            The fighters also saluted, then followed their new navs to their dorms.

            “So…” Matilda said, as she walked with Johan to her dorm. “How are things?”

            “They’re fine,” Johan replied, not even turning to look at her. “How are things with you?”

            “Good, good…”

            There was a very long silence. Matilda was embarrassed that her small talk had failed so hard.

            However, she did not need to be so, as the talk between Carlo and Alice went just as badly.

            “I’m a lesbian, so don’t you even _think_ about having sex with me,” Alice stated.

            “I’m gay, so you’re alright,” Carlo replied.

            And that was it. Needless to say, there was no sex that night.


	43. Chapter 43

_Chapter the Forty-Third_

One night, a few days after his reassignment, Carlo was up late doing some work. He had been given a special task by Keeler, to work on the designs for a new type of engine for the starfighters. He was meant to be doing it with Yura, but the following conversation will illustrate about how well that went.

            “What the fuck are these specs?” Yura said, looking closely at the screen. “This is so shit! Our machines ran on this crap about ten years ago!”

            “Your machines being what?” Carlo retorted, not in the mood for any elitist bullshit.

            “Russian machines,” Yura replied.

            “Oh, Jesus… You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Carlo said under his breath, meaning for only himself to hear it. However, Yura was right next to him, so it was kind of impossible not to catch it.

            “One of them… Fuck you, asshole. That’s just fucking racist, or whatever the word is.”

            “Racist? I’m not being racist!” Carlo exclaimed. (He was getting defensive at someone pulling the race card on him, even though the someone was _fucking white._ ) “I’m just saying that you’re Russian, so I don’t like you!”

            “Well isn’t that _so_ much less rude?” Yura cried, absolutely burning with sarcasm.

            “Keep your ushanka on, tovarisch! I’m just saying, not many people in the West like you guys! You _are_ the Colonies— as in, colonised by _us_!”

            That was a low blow. All Russians were still pissed at that whole business, even though it happened some time ago, and a non-Russian bringing that up to them was pretty much a death sentence. Yura could have given all the Gayle faces in the world, and it still would not have equated to even a millionth part of the fury he felt inside.

            “ _Fuck. You. To. Hell._ I’m not working with you anymore; this shit is ridiculous. Enjoy your shitty-ass engine specs on your own!”

            Yura got up from the chair, kicked it right out of the way, then stormed from the room. (And he was a bit confused as to why he was so irascible these days— but it was probably to do with the stress of this mission. Oh, how he needed a good fuck…)

            So, as you can see, Carlo and Yura did not get on. Yura had pissed off to go do something away from him, leaving Carlo to do everything else. And since it was meant to be a two-person task, it took him nigh on forever. Thus, at around 23:30, he was still doing the work.

            He had finished working on the designs for the new engine, but he needed to get into an adjacent room to log that he had done so. However, this room was only open to certain high-ranking officers, so had a password. It was an anomaly that Carlo was doing this task, so therefore he was not one of the few that knew this password. And he kind of needed it, or Keeler would be annoyed at him. He’d been getting annoyed with just about everyone recently, and Carlo did not want to be the next on his list of wrath.

            He peered through the glass of the door, seeing exactly the computer on which he needed to log his shit. He knocked a couple of times, just in case anyone was in there. But it was gods-damned LATE; no one sane would be up at this time, let alone doing work. Carlo had to find someone that knew the password.

            First, he went to the navigators’ training area. Outside the main door, he heard some noises, and he punched the air at his great luck. However, when he went inside, he found a very different scene.

            Jeanne was sitting on Matilda’s face, while Alice was licking Matilda’s pussy. All of their screams could be heard in an accidental harmony, and Carlo felt like he was intruding on something very private.

            Alice was the first to notice the new arrival. She withdrew her head from Matilda’s vagina, wiped her face of all the wetness, then asked him what the fuck he was doing.

            “I don’t suppose any of you know the password for the logging room?” he asked, averting his eyes from so much titty.

            “No. Why the fuck would we know that?”

            “I don’t know. No need to get pissy at me! I was just wondering! But alright. See you later, Sherlock.”

            Alice gave him a middle finger, then returned to their threesome.

            As Carlo walked down the corridor, he tried not to throw up. He was mildly uncomfortable at the sight of pussies on the best of days, but today ( _not_ the best of days) he felt positively ill. They just looked so… disgusting. Wrinkly, pink, raw, ugly… Not like the mighty phallus at all. He had no idea how people could be into those gross hairy clams.

            He decided to investigate the fighters’ training area, where he knew certain people like Cain enjoyed doing training simulations whilst completely plastered late at night. However, today Carlo was out of luck, because the indomitable fighter was not here this evening. He was treated to a scene _far_ more to his taste.

            Yura and Seryozha were making out like the world was ending. They were feeling each other up, fondling, groping, all of that shit that meant they were _so_ horny. Carlo’s face lit up, and he could not help but watch.

            They had become so heated that they’d travelled across the room, and now Yura was lying on his back on a bench press. Seryozha leapt up and straddled him, steadying himself by holding on to the weight that was still on the piece of equipment.

            “Fuck me now, Apollo… Please…” Yura begged, ripping his clothes off as fast as a rat out of an aqueduct.

            He contorted himself into a really weird position, kind of with his legs up and almost over his head, but it made his asshole nice and visible and very wide. Seryozha fumbled around for some lube, and once he found his trusty little pot, he unzipped his unitard all the way to the meat and two veg and lubed everything up.

            I would love to include a poetic and romantic description of how they made love so passionately and beautifully, how they bonded, felt so intimate, became one being, but I simply cannot. This was the sort of fuck that two horny-ass bitches have when they haven’t gotten laid in a long time, and _need_ to release their lust. Yura and Seryozha had actually not banged before, due to Yura’s anal injury of Cain’s causing, and other extraneous circumstances, but tonight seemed to be the perfect time, and they just HAD to get it on. It was messy, inelegant, rough and very wild. The bench press was shaking from its very foundations, things were squeaking, the men were sweating and grunting, and everything was in general like what one would see in a very amateur porno.

            But Carlo loved it. He had a proper boner upon viewing this dog-like fucking (seriously, they were going at it like two horny canines), and was in a good mind to just jack off, but then Yura noticed him.

            “ _ANTINOUS?! WHAT IN THE NAME OF FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?”_ he screamed. _“GET OUT! GET OUT RIGHT NOW!”_

Seryozha was still balls-deep in his ass, so turned around just a little to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing Carlo staring at them with an erection tearing at his pants, he uttered a long stream of swears and yelled at him to _piss the fuck off._

            “I was just wondering if either of you knew the passcode to the logging room?” he asked, undeterred.

            “ _DO WE LOOK IN A POSITION TO KNOW OR TELL YOU THAT?_ ” Yura shrieked.

            Carlo raised his hands defensively. “Sorry, boys. You have fun now though.”

            He turned around, and grinned when he heard the noise of their intense fucking return to his ears, as if they had never been interrupted.

            Carlo had no idea where to go next, but eventually thought that the mess hall would be a viable place. Someone was bound to be high and looking for munchies, right?

            When he entered, he was greeted to a scene of Laurentina on a table riding Jaden’s dick. She looked like a cowgirl on a rodeo bull, with one arm in the air, whooping and shouting, moving her hips all around to keep herself balanced.

            “Yeah, baby!” she cried.

            “Girl gotta bounce if she wanna taste the honey!” Jaden replied, reaching up to hold her by the waist.

            “Imma bounce so good, baby! So, so good!”

            She did just that, going at a speed a Ferrari would be jealous of. She had a poofy high ponytail in at this point, and it was flying about in a ridiculously fast rhythm. Carlo had no idea how she could physically be moving this quickly. However, this was not what he wanted to see. He just needed the damn password!

            “Password. Logging room. Do you have it?” he asked, breaking up their sex rhythm very abruptly. They completely ignored it, as they were both busy having earth-shaking orgasms. Carlo huffed and puffed, then left them to it. 


	44. Chapter 44

_Chapter the Forty-Fourth_

Having given up, Carlo walked to the lift in order to get back to his dorm. After he called it, he waited for the lift to arrive. As he did so, he closed his eyes and started thinking of the new engine’s specs again, trying to remember the exact details. He was so focused on this that he entered the lift, when it arrived, without noticing its unconventional cargo.

            “Oh… oh baby… oh my God…” Gayle whispered over the plinky-plonky elevator music.

            “Uh… uh… oh, yeah…” Alyosha grunted.

            Carlo was drawn out of his reverie, and looked over to find Gayle and Alyosha having sex doggy-style. He grimaced, but could not do anything about it. In silence— except for the occasional moan— they ascended up the decks, the music providing an extra layer of awkwardness to the scene.

            The elevator slowed to a halt, and Carlo coughed very un-subtly to get the lovers’ attention. As the doors opened, they turned to look at him. Then they turned to look at Mat.

            “ _STRAWBERRY?_ What the _hell_ are you doing?” he screamed. “I thought you were fucking _me_?”

            Gayle was otherwise engaged in being fucked by Alyosha, so did not reply. She was just succumbing to the first pleasures of climax, and threw her head back in euphoria.

            Matthias had to get to a different floor, so stepped into the lift and punched the correct button. Thus, they continued to ascend. The music was still playing, as if it were mocking Matthias in his lost love affair, and making Carlo want to climb out of the lift in awkwardness.

            The lift stopped again, a retro dinging sound announcing the opening of the doors. Standing outside was Gayle’s third lover, Jacobus. He literally screamed at the sight of her and Alyosha having sex. Alyosha was personally offended by this, so withdrew his penis from Gayle and stood up to his full height.

            “She is _my_ woman!” he cried.

            “She was mine first!” Matthias countered.

            “She is mine now!” Jacobus hollered. “She’s my navigator! None of you must touch her!”

            “Boys, boys, calm down!” Gayle interrupted, before any fights could occur. “I know exactly how to sort this out.”

            They all turned to look at her, trying to focus on her words, rather than her full-on naked body.

            “You must fight to the death,” she announced. “Tomorrow evening, you must get into your starfighters, fly into enemy space and fight to the death. Whoever is the last one standing will win me.”

            “That’s a really awful idea, by the way,” Carlo, who had not spoken much recently, piped up.

            “Shut up, swine,” Alyosha spat, slapping him across the face with the back of his hand. He crumpled to the floor, nursing his now bruised cheek.

            “We will fight to the death!” Matthias agreed. “You will both die!”

            “No, it is _you_ who will be the one dying!” Jacobus retorted.

            “Pah! In reality, it is _both of you_ who will be dying, for I will triumph!” Alyosha thundered. “Now, let us go and rest for our battle!”

            They all parted ways and began to think of strategies for their upcoming fight.

            Now, my friends, were you paying attention? This means that Alyosha now is infected with the Essence of Shrek! That is very important for the next chapter… 


	45. Chapter 45

_Chapter the Forty-Fifth_

Alyosha woke up suddenly, feeling a pleasurable and intense sensation on his dick. He peered under the covers to find his navigator, Sasha the Soldier, sucking him off.

            “Oh, you wonderful nav…” he moaned, submitting to the excellent BJ.

            Sasha the Soldier did not pause to react, but just kept on going. Alyosha tried not to utter some very sluttish-sounding cries— rather, he held them back by biting his lip. He honestly adored blowjobs, and waking up to one was probably the greatest pleasure he could think of.

            Very soon, Alyosha came in Sasha’s mouth, and he swallowed it. Sadly, that meant he was well and truly infected with the Essence of Shrek, and he was only about to transmit it to more people. Gosh, it’s like Ebola up in here!

            During the day, Sasha the Soldier got very horny. One of the side effects of the Shrek-Essence disease was increased sex drive, and he had never had it so bad. He had a constant boner for the entire morning, and during lunch he slyly jerked off whilst sipping his borsch. No one noticed, thankfully, but it still did not hit the spot. He needed something real to fuck.

            He spotted his favourite pairing and OTP, Nisus and Euryalus. He was overcome with a desire to destroy their asses, but tempered this feeling with the recollection that they were underage. Sasha didn’t know quite how old they were, but they certainly weren’t done with puberty yet. Alarm bells were ringing, but Sasha the Soldier’s penis just did not care.

            He went over to where they were sitting, interrupting the surreptitious romantic moment they were having.

            “Hello, boys,” he said, making his tone of voice just a little bit provocative. “I have to do some repairs on my starfighter, and I’ve heard you know them inside _and_ out. Would you mind helping me?”

            “Who told you that?” Sasha K asked, genuinely surprised that he had a reputation for being good at that shit.

            “No one in particular, that’s just the word going round. I’d love you two to fix some things for me.”

            “I guess we can,” Sasha B said, also surprised. “What’s broken?”

            “I think I’ll need to show you. Come with me.”

            They followed him into his starfighter, and he showed them the imaginary repairs that needed doing. They were all very low down, meaning that when Sasha B had a look, his ass stuck up and provided the two others with a very arousing sight.

            Sasha the Soldier bit his lip when he saw Sasha B’s round and ripe ass cheeks visible in all their glory. Sasha K had a few erotic thoughts as well. Sasha the Soldier let out an appreciative whistle, totally by accident. Sasha B immediately shot up, trying to cover his ass in vain. He knew _exactly_ what had just happened.

            “Excuse me!” he exclaimed. “That was _crass_!”

            “Your ass is so sexy, though…” Sasha the Soldier said.

            “Oi, fuck off! He’s my nav!” Sasha K interrupted.

            “Can’t you let me have him for just one time?”

            “Only if I get to fuck you as well,” Sasha K conceded.

            “ _Nisus_!” Sasha B shrieked.

            His pleas were not heeded, and very soon he was on his hands and knees with his asshole out. Sasha the Soldier searched for some lube, and after he’d found it, he lathered up and thrust in.

            “Do you consent to this?” Sasha the Soldier asked.

            “Fine, fine…” Sasha B replied, succumbing to the wonderful feeling of anal penetration.

            “Nisus, get inside me,” Sasha the Soldier ordered.

            And thus, the three Sashas had sex. It was quite amusing, since they all had exactly the same name, but had no idea. To be honest, it would have been incredibly confusing if they did, and were using them. Which Sasha’s name would they be screaming out during climax, after all? But nevertheless, they had a good time, and Sasha the Soldier wrangled it so he came in both of their faces. Sasha & Sasha swallowed the infected semen, and the Essence of Shrek began to invade their bodies. 


	46. Chapter 46

_Chapter the Forty-Sixth_

Cain was on the prowl for a ripe ass to fuck. He’d banged many of the navs on the ship that were to his taste, but wanted someone else. That navigator Euryalus really took his fancy, but he was not sure how he would go about seducing and fucking him. He seemed God-damn devoted to his fighter already.

            At dinner time, Cain sought out the nav. When he walked up to the borsch-dispensing machine, Cain stalked after him and loitered as Sasha B’s borsch was pouring into his bowl.

            “Are you a slut, Euryalus?” Cain asked.

            Sasha B gave him a quizzical look. “No…” he replied, very wary of Cain’s next move.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes…”

            “D’you wanna have sex with me?”

            “No!”

            “Yes you do.”

            “No I don’t!” Sasha B exclaimed, stepping back as Cain was now very close to his face.

            “I will throw boiling borsch on you if you don’t consent, Euryalus. Keep that in mind.”

            Sasha B rolled his eyes, masking his fear with nonchalance.

            “Why don’t you have sex with your own navigator?” he suggested.

            “No. I want to have sex with you. Now shut up, come to my dorm and spread your ass cheeks.”

            Sasha B grimaced at Cain’s crude language, and instinctively protected his bowl of borsch, which was now almost spilling over. Cain pressed the button to stop the borsch dispensing, then dipped his finger in and spread a smear of it across Sasha B’s lips. He tried to stop him, but Cain went in and kissed it off.

            “Was that supposed to be seductive?” he asked, not sure where his sass was coming from, but enjoying it all the same.

            Cain did not reply. He dipped his finger into the borsch again, then traced a line down his jawline and neck. Sasha B slapped his hand away, but could not prevent Cain from licking it off in a hickey-giving-like manner.

            “That is gross; it’s going to be sticky!” he noted.

            “And you know what else is going to be sticky?” Cain said with a seductive air. Then, his voice hardened. “Your _entire body covered in borsch_ , if you don’t have sex with me right now!”

            Sasha B groaned so loudly that a few people turned to look at him.

            “ _Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine…_ ” he eventually said. “Do _not_ tell Nisus about this, though.”

            Cain smiled his signature creepy smile. “Excellent,” he stated. “Truly excellent. Come with me; I think I’ll need my anal stretchers to sort out your ass…”

            Sasha B gulped, gagging simultaneously. As you can tell, he was _not_ a kinky person in bed. He’d only been ‘in bed’ a handful of times anyway. His first time had been with Nisus, on this mission! He had _no idea_ about sex!

            Without arousing the attention of Sasha K or Abel, the pair of them slunk out of the mess hall. Sasha B was shitting himself (although not literally, for that would be a disaster for their anal sex), while Cain was getting hard already. He rubbed his hands together with glee, thinking of how many ways he could ravage this navigator’s butthole.

            As soon as they were inside the dorm, Cain slammed the door shut and got Sasha B on the floor. His and Abel’s bed was down there, with all the covers arranged nicely, so he got a very nice surface on which to lie. Cain had made him lay on his front, rather than the hands-and-knees position he was used to, so he was a little uncoordinated.

            “Arch your back more, bitch,” Cain ordered, grabbing Sasha B by the hair and physically doing it for him. “Show me that tight hole.”

            Sasha B was a flexible little shit (as well as a medical certificate, he had a gymnastics certificate as well), so could hold this extreme arch without much discomfort. It was like the cobra position, the amount he was stretching.

            “There we go…” Cain said, satisfied. He spread Sasha’s legs a little, in order to expose as much of his anus as possible, then inspected the hole. He was not impressed with it, so tutted and shook his head. He took something from his toy bag, and handed it to Sasha B.

            “I recommend you do this before we fuck. I make Abel do it every night. Don’t worry, it’s clean.”

            Sasha B looked at the curious device Cain had just given him. On the side it read ‘ENEMATIC 2400’, and it came with a small and crumpled-up instruction manual. He smoothed it out, and as soon as he saw some diagrams of asses, he realised what this machine was for.

            “No offence, boo, but you gotta be clean. I’ve made all my lovers do this, except that whore Phobos, because he seems to do it anyway.”

            (Sasha B did _not_ need to know that.)

            He wandered off to the bathroom and read the directions. He had to shove a jet of water up his ass, give himself an enema… God, the things he’d done on this ship. This wasn’t even the worst.

            Sasha stuck the thing right up in there and turned it on. It was the weirdest feeling ever, not quite uncomfortable but not quite arousing. The machine was quite loud as well, killing any of the sexual mood that Cain may have been feeling before.

            Once the enema process had been completed, Sasha waited some time to make sure the last of the water had drained out (as per the instructions). Once he was sure everything was nice and clean, he returned to the bed.

            “Now then, my dear Euryalus, time to face the penis.”

            Sasha B screwed his eyes shut and awaited penetration. When it first came, he winced and gasped sharply as Cain’s sizeable, adult dick entered his asshole, but soon got used to it, so was content with biting his lip and grimacing as he endured the fucking. Cain was going at it very wildly, Sasha’s gorgeous blond hair bouncing in time with his vigorous thrusts.

            Soon, Cain came deep inside of him, then withdrew and cleaned up. Sasha B stood up to leave, his ass throbbing a surprising amount, but Cain grabbed his arm and stopped him.

            “You didn’t cum. Why was that?”

            “Why do you think?” he replied, his voice awkwardly shaky due to his after-sex mien. “I didn’t enjoy it that much. You didn’t go long enough.”

            Cain took that as a personal affront to his semen stamina, and snorted.

            “Pah! I could have gone on for so much longer! I just didn’t think you could handle it! Now, time to make you cum.”

            He clasped his hands around Sasha B’s only just erect penis, and gave him a handjob. He came after a while, ejaculating a decent amount. Cain cleaned it all up, but alas! One tiny blob had squirted onto his lip, and he had since licked his lips to moisten them up! He had contracted the Essence of Shrek!


	47. Chapter 47

_Chapter the Forty-Seventh_

The clock struck nine. It was time for the faceoff. Jacobus, Matthias and Alyosha strode up to the docking station, helmets and spacesuits on, ready to destroy their enemies. Gayle was there too, to referee the match and see its outcome.

            “Okay, my lovelies, what you must do is get into your starfighters, fly out, then form a triangle facing each other. I will be on the microphone—” with that she gestured to a headset which she’d stolen from Keeler— “and I’ll tell you when to start. The last one standing wins. Good luck.”

            Inside, she was terrified at the thought that some of them would die, but tried to remain unfazed on the outside. Each of them took turns to give her a final parting kiss (and in Matthias’ case, a quick boob-grab), then made for their starfighters.

            There were tears in Gayle’s eyes as they zoomed out into space. She was in the perfect position to view them, so put on the headset and waited for them to form a triangle.

            “Are you ready, my dears?” she asked, after they were prepared.

            “Yes, my wonderful girl,” Matthias replied.

            “Certainly, divine woman,” Alyosha replied.

            “Yep, babe,” Jacobus replied.

            “Okay then… Three, two, one… GO!”

            Huge volleys of fire poured out of all three ships, most of them wildly off-target. Sometimes, something would hit its mark, and a small explosion would damage one starfighter. Alyosha looked to have the upper hand, since he had the best model (the _Rozhdestvo_ * Mk-XVII) with the biggest guns, but the others were holding their own quite well.

_*that’s a Russian word, and if you look it up you’ll find it has a rather MERRY definition. That was a clue._

            “Come on, Mr Babcock, come on…” Matthias whispered to himself, pressing buttons and trying to emit the most firepower from his measly starfighter. He soon decided to change to different ammunition: high-powered lasers. These were an experimental feature on his ship, so he wasn’t sure how well they’d work.

            By God, they worked very well. The first laser shot cut right through one wing of Jacobus’ starfighter, and his ship lurched to one side.

            “Ah, shit!” Jacobus hissed, upping his bombardment to as much as he could. The ammo counter on his screen was dropping down _fast_.

            Alyosha, at that moment, decided to bring out the big guns, metaphorically. He switched to a super-powerful laser, which was so much better than the piddly one in Matthias’ starfighter. However, his was also in an experimental stage, and he had ramped up the power to a dangerous figure. He had no idea if it would be effective.

            Now, it would really depend on your definition of effective, whether you’d say it was or not. Alyosha let loose with two burning laser beams, which caused both Jacobus’ and Matthias’ ships to explode in a ball of insane red fire, but Newton’s Laws sadly were upheld. The backwards force of the lasers was so great that Alyosha’s starfighter went reeling back, crashing into the ship with a thud that everyone felt.

            Gayle was sobbing now, with tears running freely from her eyes. She tasted the saltiness on her lips and cursed her emotions. She had only fucked them; it wasn’t like they were going out or anything! Why was she sad about their deaths?

            Wiping the tears away, she went and returned the headset to Keeler’s office. He did not notice a thing, but that was really not what Gayle was focusing on. She could barely see through the waterfall pouring from her eyeballs, and was so miserable that she could hardly think. Her mind was a complete mess. I mean, she had just witnessed the deaths of her three lovers. She was bound to be just a little sad.

            Little did she know, one certain boy had survived his ship exploding. A Mr Mullally had grabbed on to a bit of wreckage as he was thrown into space, and used the thrusters on his spacesuit to gently glide back to safety. He was severely injured, but limped off to the medical bay. All of this happened with Gayle unawares. How depressing to think that she thought Jacobus was dead! Dramatic irony much!


	48. Chapter 48

_Chapter the Forty-Eighth_

Shrek’s human minions were proud of their work so far. As they snuck off in Bautista’s starfighter to go and report back to their Ogre Master, they began to discuss how many people they’d infected.

            “I started a _brilliant_ chain reaction!” Sonja exclaimed. “I spread it to Cream, who then spread it to Strawberry! It was glorious!”

            “I fucked Scarlett so many times; she’s probably going to die of the Essence in hours!” Jaden boasted.

            “Well you know what? I heard that some other fighter fucked Strawberry! So they’ve got the Essence as well! I think I’ve been the best so far,” Sonja replied.

            “Some people are saying that Cain’s been a bit under the weather recently,” Bautista noted. “Who’s been banging him?”

            The other three looked at each other and shook their heads slowly.

            “That means he must have fucked…” Olivera began, going off into some deep thoughts. “Well, as far as we know, he could have had sex with Scarlett, Cream, Strawberry or that fighter who apparently had sex with her. Does that seem feasible?”

            “Absolutely not,” Bautista stated. “Cain goes for the young, pretty and androgynous boys; not _girls_ , or mediocre guys like Cream! He has a very predictable taste.”

            “Really?!” Olivera cried, shocked and interested by this new information. “Who fits that description then? Who’s he fucked?”

            “Well, his navigator _obviously_ ,” Bautista answered. “That Abel looks like his dream man. To be honest, I’m not certain of anyone else he’s fucked, but it seems pretty evident that on the day when we switched, he’d have fucked his temporary nav too.”  
            “Phobos… Oh, oh yeah. Definitely. He is the literal definition of young, pretty and androgynous. He kind of reminds me of someone we learned about in history... What was his name? Vanya? Vanya Makavich?”

            “ _VASILIY MAKAROV_!” Sonja interjected. “I love him!”

            “Ohhhh, mmm, yes. _Yes._ That’s the one,” Olivera replied, kind of getting aroused at the thought of lovely Vasiliy. “Phobos is totally like him. And apparently he’s a bit of a slut… Phobos, I mean. Is he?”

            “Fuck he is,” Jaden said. “I’ve seen him flirting with just about _every_ older fighter on this ship. Seems like someone is thirsty for a sugardaddy…”

            Olivera and Sonja got hot at the thought of having a sugardaddy, but contained their vaginal juices.

            “I think that slut-shaming is _so_ 2013,” Olivera noted. “Phobos can be a slut if he wants.”

            “Phobos _is_ a slut,” Jaden replied, his slut-shaming attitude really disappointing Olivera’s social justice side. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked to have sex with _me_!”

            “Now that’s not very nice language, is it?” Olivera scolded him. “Let us not judge!”

            “This is beside the point, guys,” Sonja, who was navigating for this trip, cut in. “All we know is that the Essence of Shrek is spreading, so the Master will be proud of us.”

            “Here we are!” Bautista, the fighter for this trip, exclaimed. “Prepare your assholes!”

            They landed and were received like heroes returning from a war which they had won. They were escorted by a variety of exotic dancers and prostitutes into the main control room, where Shrek was waiting for them.

            “We are your eternal suppliants, O great Shrek,” they chorused, getting into a praying position at his mighty feet.

            “Get up, you grovelling fools!” he boomed. “Report to me of your progress!”

            They obeyed his orders without question, apologizing profusely for their terrible behaviour.

            “Blonde female, tell me all,” he demanded.

            “Certainly, Master Shrek,” she replied, with a bow for added subservience. “Everything is going very well, O divine Majesty. We have, combined, infected a number of people, and it looks to be spreading. All the meagre and feeble humans seem to have a lot of sex, illustrious and glorious Shrek.”

            Shrek nodded slowly, his tube-like ears bobbing in time.

            “Excellent, my minions. But now, I no longer need you.”

            Olivera got onto her knees, spreading her arms wide to receive an heroic death from the eternal Ogre. She was ready to give the ultimate sacrifice— her life— for this mighty cause.

            “Take me, O Shrek,” she said, in an almost hysterical frenzy. “I am ready.”

            Shrek grabbed her and sat her on his beauteous face. With his huge, grimy teeth, he started biting her pussy, vaginally penetrating her with his anaconda-like tongue. She screamed in pain, but endured it due to her manically fervent state.

            He produced a vat of sulphuric acid from underneath his throne, and dipped her into it. It immediately burned and blackened her skin, and as she wailed in complete and utter agony, Shrek sucked it off her. He took off a lot of her skin with it as well, so she soon resembled one of those anatomical drawings that illustrated the muscles. (Or one of those massive things from Attack on Titan.)

            He dropped her into the sulphuric acid again, swirling her body around with her finger to dissolve it. Once she was completely gone, he dipped his penis into the vat to lubricate it, then snatched up Jaden and ran him through with his dick. He died instantly, but Shrek kept fucking him as necrophilia was one of his fetishes.

            Bautista and Sonja were absolutely horrified. Bautista was puking everywhere, huge explosions of thick chunky liquid spraying all over the crisp white walls. Sonja was literally shitting herself with fear, and when Shrek noticed, he got very aroused (he had a shit fetish) and started to suck on her ass. Jaden’s corpse was still on his dick, and flopped about like a flag in a windless day.

            “O SHREK, PLEASE BE MERCIFUL!” Sonja bellowed, as Shrek sucked her entire intestines out through her ass. Somehow, this did not kill her, and only when he sucked her heart out did she drop dead. He speared her body on his dick, then moved on to Bautista.

            “SHREK, MIGHTY SHREK!” Bautista screeched. “SPARE MY LIFE!”

            “Never, you disgusting blob of slime,” he replied, ripping Bautista’s penis off and popping it in his mouth.

            “MY NAKED MANHOOD!” Bautista wailed.

            Shrek tore off his lips to shut him up, then sucked out his eyeballs like little edamame beans. Next, he bit off his shapely nose, then snaffled up his testicles. Bautista had no breath left to cry out, so endured the agony in silence. Shrek finished him off by sucking his body into his throat like a piece of spaghetti.

            To finish off his meal, he removed Sonja and Jaden from his dick and chewed them right up. He swallowed them by downing the sulphuric acid that Olivera’s body had been dissolved in, smacked his lips and wiped his hands on his robe.

            “Delicious,” he said to himself. “Now, Adjutant General Putin, come here! I want to fuck you!”


	49. Chapter 49

_Chapter the Forty-Ninth_

Alice was looking very unwell. Her skin was pale, her eyes were sunken and her breathing was like a hundred-year smoking veteran with a chest infection.

            “What’s wrong?” Carlo asked.

            “Withdrawal,” Alice replied. “I haven’t had palyets in _ages_.” (And she said ‘palyets’ in a Russian accent, giving you readers a clue as to where to look for the origin of this word.)

            “What the fuck is palyets?”

            Alice waved her hand in a fabulous manner. “It’s nothing. Just a drug that I enjoy.”

            “Enjoy? More like that you’re addicted to! Have you looked at yourself recently?”

            Alice checked herself out in her tablet. “Oh, Jesus… I look awful… I’m not addicted though. I just need some more. And I have a perfect way to get money.”

            She produced a sign that read ‘ANTINOUS THE NAVIGATOR IS READY TO MAKE ANY OF YOU HIS CLIENT - ENQUIRE WITHIN’. It took Carlo a moment to work out what that meant, but when he did, he was horrified.

            “‘ _HIS CLIENT?’_ No! I am not whoring myself out to people!” he exclaimed, dismayed.

            “You bloody well are. I already have a girl on this mission, and you do not. I need to make some money, and you are the perfect solution.”

            Carlo harrumphed, but it did not stop Alice putting the sign on their door. He got on with his work, hoping that no one would pass this dorm.

            But alas, none other than Cain happened to go that way to get to his dorm. At the end of the day, he was strolling down the corridor, thinking of how best to anally penetrate Apollo without actually touching his ass, and with the result of ripping his anus irreversibly, when he noticed the words written upon the door. Intrigued, he knocked upon it.

            “What do you want, Cain?” Carlo asked, having opened the door.

            “I think you know,” Cain replied. “On your front, darling.”

            Carlo sighed, put away his tablet, then cleared a space on his bunk for Cain to destroy his ass. He lay on his front, arching his back nicely, making sure his anus was wide for Cain’s penis.

            “You know there is a charge involved with this,” Carlo said, as Cain was lubing up.

            “Fuck that, I’m not paying,” Cain replied. “I am Cain. I fuck who I want.”

            He thrust his dick inside Carlo’s tight asshole, then began to gyrate like nobody’s business. Carlo actually really enjoyed it, so started moaning and screaming in pleasure, which only made Cain hornier. He went as fast as a hummingbird in heat, so Carlo’s ass was really complaining. It was red and inflamed, but Cain did not care.

            “Yes, baby! You love it, you slut!” he cried, grabbing onto Carlo’s waist to get a better angle. “Tell me you love it!”  
            “I love it, Cain... oohhh… I love it…”

            Cain smiled, but it soon disappeared when Alice entered the room, naked, having just got out of the shower.

            “Get the fuck out!” he shouted.

            “Absolutely not. I am Antinous’ pimp. I need to oversee his activities. As you were.”  
            She sat on the floor and looked at them as they fucked. She was not aroused very much by this, since she way preferred lesbian sex and despised penises, but she appreciated that both men were really turned-on and loving it. She waited, somewhat bored, until climax, then demanded some money from Cain.

            “I didn’t bring any fucking money into space!” he retorted. “This isn’t a country! There’s no currency!”

            “I accept any Earth currency: sterling, dollars, roubles… You must have _something_. How do you pay for the black bread vending machine?”

            “You don’t need to know how I do that,” Cain stated.

            “I think I do, now you’ve said it like that.”

            “Fine. Whoever comes up to the vending machine, I put my fist up their ass until they pay for some bread for me. Works every time.”

            Alice gagged. “That is foul. But anyway, so you have no money?”

            “No.”

            “Then you will have to pay in something else. I demand that you get me some palyets.”

            “Palyets? The lesbian drug*? I can get some of that easily for you. I’ll get it to your dorm tomorrow morning. Abel will be round at 0500 hours.”

            _*That will only make sense if you know what ‘palyets’ means._

            “Good. And if not, I will make sure you die. That is not an empty threat. Have a nice evening.”

            Cain zipped up his unitard, then left.

            “How did you like that then?” Alice asked.

            “It was alright. A bit rough. My ass hurts a bit. I’m not doing that again, though.”

            “Pahaha, yes you are. I can’t get palyets any other way than this. Get used to it.”

            Carlo sneezed. The Essence of Shrek he’d caught from Cain was already having an effect!


	50. Chapter 50

_Chapter the Fiftieth_

“Now this is the stuff,” Alice said, tipping a bag of pills out onto the ground in front of them.

            “How strong?” Matilda asked.

            “75% zanthtrilaxanol, according to Cain.”

            Matilda smiled.

            The two girls were at one deserted end of the ship, about to enjoy the payment from Carlo’s debut as a rent boy. They had the palyets pills ready, and could not wait to get fucking high. They worked best when taken with some vodka, so they had some flasks ready to wash the pills down with.

            Alice put a few of the green pills on her tongue, then took a swig of vodka so they went down her throat. If one chewed palyets, they’d get a disgusting taste and a weird tingling in their mouth, which was dangerous and did not get you high. Also, if you drank too much vodka, the chemicals would react and kill you. And if you took too many pills, they would corrode your stomach lining and kill you. If you even took a tenth of a gram too much, you’d have an awful high experience which could lead you to commit suicide. If you took too little, you wouldn’t be fully in the high world, and the limbo could lead you to commit suicide. If you didn’t take them with vodka, you would die instantly from an overdose. If you didn’t follow your palyets pills with a drink of diluted caustic soda, you would die from their acid content. If you didn’t lie down whilst the effects were taking hold, all the blood would drain from your head and you would die. If you opened your eyes whilst on the palyets trip, you would go permanently blind. Altogether, it was an incredibly dangerous drug, but the high you got was, to some, worth it. It was also highly addictive, making palyets a real problem amongst the fighters and navigators. Many of the best officers were killed by going on active duty having taken palyets even 24 hours earlier. Although the high lasted about eighteen minutes, the lasting effects were unknown and potentially fatal.

            Quickly chugging a bit of dilute caustic soda, Alice lay on her back and closed her eyes, covering them with a cloth to make sure no light got in (which was the cause of palyets-induced blindness). Matilda did exactly the same, then they enjoyed the high.

            Now, the feeling of palyets was so good that it was almost indescribable. You were as euphoric as from crystal meth, coke or ecstasy, but as chill as from heroin or weed. You had the same interesting visions as from LSD, mushrooms or Salvia, and the same numbness as from morphine or opium. It was like the best bits of all drugs combined, all in a lingering and comforting trip.

            Seventeen minutes later, Yura stumbled onto the scene.

            “What the fuck is going on here?” he asked, seeing Alice lying on the floor, convulsing, with a black cloth on her face, and Matilda in the same position, smiling smugly, with spoons over her eyes.

            To the girls, Yura appeared to them in their dream-like, hallucinogenic state as a Jesus-like figure, with a halo around his head. Obviously, they couldn’t see him, but their minds were crazy on palyets and filled in the gaps for them.

            “Messiah! Messiah!” they began to shout, their voices sounding weirdly pitched in their heads.

            “I’m not the bloody Messiah,” he said. “What in the name of his holy ass are you doing?”

            “Palyets!” Matilda cried, her hand vaguely gesturing to the remaining pills and paraphernalia on the ground.

            “Oh, the lesbian drug!” Yura exclaimed. “Is this what it does, then? I’ve always wondered…”

            “Try some!” Alice suggested, now coming off her high and able to remove the cloth from her eyes. “We’ll teach you how!”

            Yura thought about it for a moment, and did not see anything wrong with having just one little go.

            “Alright then. How do I do it?”

            Both girls were now competent to help him, and set up his stuff.

            “First of all, you take a few pills on your tongue— two or three will probably do for a first-time user. Swallow them with a swig of vodka, but only about one second’s worth of swallowing. Otherwise you die. Then take three huge gulps of this 0.75 mole concentration of caustic soda, then lie down and cover your eyes with something. Then, enjoy the trip.”

            “It sounds awfully complicated, and fucking dangerous. Caustic soda is like 14 on the pH scale.”  
            “Palyets is about -10; you’ve got to balance it somehow,” Matilda said. “Now, are you ready?”

            “I suppose.”  
            “Then have fun!”

            He put two pills on his tongue, then swigged some vodka. He poured some caustic soda down his throat, almost puking at the foul taste, then lay down. Alice put the black cloth over his face, then sat back and watched him trip.

            By God, it was a crazy trip. Yura had never felt so good, and for some reason he popped a huge boner. As he flew through hallucinations of his wildest sexual fantasies, he masturbated furiously, somehow managing to have multiple orgasms like a woman. These were the best orgasms of his entire life, since he was relishing in the effects of the palyets as well. Even though he was somewhat toned-down and chilled-out thanks to the weed- and opium-like parts of the drug, he was able to acutely feel everything a hundred times more sensitively, and found that his orgasms were so intense he could barely handle them.

            Alice and Matilda were chuckling at this novice’s first trip. They knew full well how great sex on palyets felt. It was especially good for lesbians fingering pussies, hence its name ‘palyets*’ and its street name ‘the lesbian drug’. I mean, they’d had such good sex on palyets that their orgasms lasted about forty minutes.

_*PALYETS MEANS FINGER IN RUSSIAN, IN CASE YOU’VE BEEN TOO LAZY TO LOOK IT UP (GODS)!_

            Yura eventually began to come off the high, but his erection did not subside. He tried to hide it by draping the black cloth over it, but it was just too big. Alice and Matilda laughed, slapping him on the back like lads.

            “It’s alright, we understand. You should probably get one of your boyfriends, though. Maybe both, one after the other. That erection won’t go for some time— last time we got horny on palyets, we were wet for three hours afterwards.”

            “ _Three hours_? I’ll have a boner for _three hours_? I need to train!” he shrieked.

            “You can definitely train… with your fighter; it’ll be swell,” Alice replied.

            “Goodbye,” he said, concealing his anger, then turning on his heel and leaving.

            Yura had a good three hours. First, he went into Seryozha’s dorm without Jeanne noticing, then they had wild sex in the shower. Then he found Deimos in a training simulator, and fucked him multiple times. He really did enjoy being on top sometimes.


	51. Chapter 51

_Chapter the Fifty-First_

Things had been on Johan’s mind for some time. Mostly it was a horrible sense of guilt for being so mean to his navigator that it led them to be reassigned, but this was also mixed in with an unwanted horniness. The thought of Carlo kind of turned him on, and seeing him with his new fighter sent a twinge of guilt into his heart.

            So, he decided to let him have what he wanted this whole time.

            It was the middle of the day, and Johan had been spying on Carlo for a number of hours. He was annoyingly mostly in the navs’ training area, but at one point he disappeared to the loos. This was Johan’s chance.

            He stalked after the navigator, eventually cornering him next to the urinals.

            “Hadrian! What… what do you want?” he asked, trying to be cordial but really quite confused and nervous.

            “It’s more of a question of what _you_ want,” Johan replied, as Carlo zipped up his trousers and went to wash his hands.

            “What do you mean by that?”

            “I mean, I will let you have what you want. To have sex with me.”

            They looked into each other’s eyes for a long time, while Carlo registered Johan’s words.

            “Really?”

            Johan nodded. “Yes. I know I was a bitch to you before, but I’m saying that now I’m trying to make it up. Do with me what you will.”

            Carlo could hardly believe this. Hadrian, the divine Hadrian, was letting him make love to him! What an excellent day this was!

            “Can I… uhh… suck your dick then?”

            “By all means. Let’s g—”

            Carlo shut him up by grabbing his collar and crushing his mouth with a kiss. Johan melted at Carlo’s soft touch, wondering why he didn’t agree to this ages ago. He felt every inch of Carlo’s body, just itching to rip all his clothes off.

            They soon found themselves in a toilet cubicle, and Johan hurriedly locked it by shoving it closed with his elbow. They kept sloppily making out, getting saliva all over their mouths and necks. Johan unzipped his unitard and his erection popped out. Carlo knelt down and got right to it by shoving the entire length in his mouth.

            It was quick and dirty sex. Carlo had been wanting to do this for a long time, so wasted no breath in making it romantic or loving. Johan didn’t particularly want to have sex at first, but once Carlo began to suck him off, he really warmed to it. Hot was probably a better word, actually. He was _really_ enjoying it.

            Johan came into Carlo’s mouth, and he swallowed it without spilling even a drop. He smiled, and then stood up and gave Johan a very thankful hug. He snuggled into the space between Johan’s neck and shoulder, actually quite moved that he fit so perfectly.

            Shaking with happiness, and quite unsteady on his feet (not that he had enjoyed it or anything), Johan returned to his dorm. There, he found Matilda working on her tablet. She saw him, and politely put it away to talk.

            “Afternoon, Hadrian,” she greeted. “How are you?”

            Johan could not hide his smile as he answered: “I’m great, thanks. How are you?”

            “I am intrigued to know why you’re so happy, actually. Come on, spill.”

            “No reason…” he replied, blushing red.

            “No reason, pah! I have never seen you this happy!”

            “Fine, fine. I just… got to spend time with someone I liked. That’s all.”

            Matilda raised an eyebrow. “Spend time, eh? On this ship, I know exactly what that means.”

            “It wasn’t that!” Johan defended, a little too eagerly.

            Matilda gave him a knowing look. “Of course not. Of _course_ it wasn’t _that_.”

            “Alright, alright, alright. It was. But don’t judge me!”

            “So… who were you fucking?”

            Johan immediately thought of all the females on the ship, to see who would be the least weird to admit he had sex with. He scoffed at such heteronormative thoughts, but was still apprehensive to reveal his sexuality to Matilda. Although pretty much everyone on the ship experimented, and no one these days was judgemental, he just didn’t fancy it. But, he swallowed his fear like Carlo had swallowed his cum, and went right out and said it.

            “My old nav,” he stated.

            “Who was that? Antinous?”

            “Yes.”

            Matilda’s eyes lit up. “That is adorable! I always shipped you guys!”  
            “Did you?!” Johan spluttered. “W-why?!”

            “No reason… you guys are just very cute. I was sad when you asked to be reassigned!”

            Johan found himself blushing.

            “So, um— and I hope you don’t mind me asking— what did you, you know, think when you started to like your navigator? Cos, um… never mind…”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean, did you find it weird that he’s the same gender?”

            “No, not at all. I’m only into guys, you see.”

            “You’re gay, then?” Matilda asked, kind of hinting that there was a purpose to all her questions.

            “Yep. Why are you asking this?”

            “Well… um… I’ve been thinking for a while now… I maybe, kind of, possibly… think I’m gay,” she said, as if this were the biggest thing in the world.

            “That’s great!” Johan replied, actually proud of her for being brave enough to admit it.

            Matilda was seriously blushing now. “I just wanted to tell someone… It’s been weighing on my mind for ages. You know, after first meeting with my old fighter…”

            “Ah, I totally see.”

            “How are you so sure of your sexuality? Cos I’m still quite confused… I don’t know if I’m all gay… How can you be certain?”

            “You will just kind of discover. I mean, at first, I didn’t think I liked men at all; I got married to a woman, I got her knocked up, then I realised that I wasn’t happy with her. It took a few illicit sexual encounters with gay prostitutes for me to find out that that’s who I was attracted to.”

            “What, gay prostitutes? Cos I heard that one of the navigators, Phobos—”

            “No, not gay prostitutes! Men! I fucked a few of them, then realised that I just loved the D. I’m guessing it was the same for you… but, the other way round.”

            “Yeah… Sherlock, well, she fucked me pretty hard. And I _loved_ it. I’d never even been attracted to anyone else before. It was such a surprise.”

            “You should be glad that you live here and now! A few hundred years ago, there were people that thought it was _unnatural!_ And wrong! How crazy is that?”

            “Wow… I can’t even imagine. The olden days were mental.”

            “Totally. I’m thankful to be around now. Back then, people had to actually _tell_ their parents they were gay, as in, like, it was a big thing!”

            Matilda was shocked. “Really? How strange!”

            “Crazy, I know.”

            “I suppose it’s still quite a thing to discover yourself. It’s not like being straight is shoved in your face, and expected, but who you love is quite a big part of who you are. It’s probably big to discover your sexuality, whatever it is. Especially at a young age! When did you discover?”

            “Oh God, so young. The first time I ever had an erection was when I watched the men’s gymnastics in the Olympics! I was about twelve! My mother was quite shocked to see that. Gosh, her face was priceless.”

            “My mother thought— and probably still thinks— I’m an asexual, because I’ve never dated anyone, or even told her about a crush or anything. She pretty much forced me to go to pilot school, because she used to be a navigator and knew how it was a sexual awakening and whatnot. She literally told me that. She was like, ‘Matil—’ wait, no— ‘Watson, when you return from this mission, I expect you to have discovered your sexuality. If you’ve had sex with anyone, even better. I want to know for certain if you’re asexual or not!’”

            “And how old are you?” Johan asked, incredulous at Matilda’s mum’s odd behaviour.

            “Sixteen,” she replied.

            “Phwoar! What?! I didn’t have sex until I was eighteen! She needn’t be worried!”

            “She is. She really is. She had me when she was fourteen, so she thought that it was surprising I didn’t display any sexual attraction to anyone. But fourteen… that’s fucking young. She was a bit of an idiotic teenager.”

            “My mum was sixteen— and bear in mind, this was a few years before teen-mother schools were set up! It was still considered bad back then. Her parents did _not_ like me at all.”

            “Do they now?”

            “Not sure, really. They pretty much disowned her as soon as I was born, so we haven’t seen them in a long time. I think she’s trying to make contact with them again, but I haven’t been involved. Meh. Ya know.”

            “Your generation was pretty weird, not having teen-mother schools. Most of my friends go to them!”

            “That’s cos people find it normal now. When I was born, it wasn’t a viable option to be a teen mother. People were all about ‘oh, it’ll ruin your studying, you’ll never be able to get good grades’. Bullshit. My mother was the top of her year when she left. Prejudice much!”

            “One of my friends is from one of those families that like to breed at ridiculously young ages— as soon as she started her periods, they found her a boy to fuck. Her kid was three by the time she was fifteen, and then off she went to pilot school! She’s on the fucking _command_ ship now; she’s a colonel! Makes me feel kind of crap, being one of the teenagers on the gifted and talented program, or whatever it’s called.”  
            “Isn’t it called something like Athena?” Johan offered.

            “Oh, yeah. Athena. Whatever. It’s fucked up; my school sent anyone who could pay off to pilot school. I only went because my parents funded a huge refurbishment for their hall. So corrupt.”

            “It’s like Russia… Now _that_ is a corrupt country.”

            “I’ve heard that anyone will whore themselves out for the right price— including the President. Apparently he’s been caught sucking the dicks of other world leaders so they’ll like him,” said Matilda.

            “Gross… But I don’t blame him. Sucking dicks is great.”

            “Is it? I wouldn’t know… I’ve never tried it.”

            “Do you… um, do you want to?”

            “W-wait, what? Are you offering?”

            “Yeah, I guess. I’ve not had sex with a girl in a while, and you’ve not had sex with a man. It’s a… it’s a learning experience, I guess. It won’t _mean_ anything. You want to?”

            “Sure… I guess…”

            Johan unzipped his unitard, and Matilda freaked out at the sight of his penis. She’d never really seen one in the flesh before, and was surprised at how they looked in real life. She expected them to be a little more… a little more, well, pretty. She already felt like she wasn’t attracted to this sexual organ.

            He leaned against the wall, wanking so he got hard. Matilda kneeled down and steadied the throbbing member with one hand.

            “So, how do I do it?” she asked.

            “Just… just, uh, put it in your mouth. Then… well, you’ll know. Kind of suck it. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

            Matilda nodded, then commenced the blowjob.

            Johan bit his lip, so he did not let out a disgusted noise or a gag. He found it unpleasant that a girl was sucking his dick, but enjoyed the actual feeling of his dick being sucked. Matilda wasn’t the greatest BJ-giver ever— she was decent; not too great, not too awful. She certainly didn’t use teeth like some noobs did. God, that rent boy who’d bit his dick… The scars still hadn’t faded.

            “I’m about to cum, Watson!” Johan exclaimed, sounding rather half-arsed about it. “Do you want to swallow it?”

            Matilda shook her head, then fell back on her haunches so Johan could cum into the air. She shielded her face as the liquid spewed out, and almost vomited at the pure grossness of the sight.

            “I am definitely, definitely gay,” she concluded.

            “Same. No offence, Watson, but that was not enjoyable. I prefer dudes doing that.”

            “And I prefer… well, I prefer not doing it at all. I think vaginas are my forte. No hard feelings, though, right?”

            “Totally no. We’re still friends. Let’s not let this change that.”  
            “Awesome. Thanks for the DMC, by the way.”

            “My pleasure. Anytime.”


	52. Chapter 52

_Chapter the Fifty-Second_

Jacobus felt awful. He’d been recovering in the medical bay for some time now, but his injuries really were extreme. His face had been totally fucked up by shrapnel from multiple explosions in his starfighter, and he was blind in one eye. Both legs had been shattered in the shockwave, as well as many ribs and a few fingers. His brain had been a little frazzled by the exposure to fucking _space_ and shit, so he had mild amnesia and had lost a few points of IQ. He’d been recuperating as well as he could, but there was definitely some permanent damage. He had been finding it rather difficult to get an erection, a fact which crushed him inside.

            “Oh, fuck!” Gayle shrieked, as a weight fell onto her foot.

            “Holy crap, I am so sorry!” Sasha B cried, immediately consoling her.

            “It’s alright, Euryalus— I shouldn’t have been going round you while you were reaching up for a weight.”

            “But there’s so much blood! I feel terrible!”

            “It’s really okay. I’ll live.”

            “I can take you to the medical bay, if you like,” Sasha B offered. “The navs’ gym is too far for you to walk on your own!”

            “If you really, really want to,” Gayle replied. “But I think I’ll be alright.”

            “No no, I insist. I need to make it up somehow! Please, or I’ll feel like such a whore forever!”

            “Okay then, Euryalus. You can take me.”

            Sasha B helped Gayle up, then accompanied her to the medical bay. It was a difficult walk, as Gayle had probably broken a few toes and general foot bones, but Sasha B was a helpful little shit and made it as easy as possible (his medical certificate was coming in handy yet again!).

            “You alright from here?” he asked her, once she had reached the medical bay.

            “Yep. Thanks, Euryalus,” she replied, pressing her hand into his and giving him a lingering look of gratitude. He smiled awkwardly, kind of thinking that she was flirting, then returned to training.

            The medical attendant, the one known only as Butts, saw to Gayle’s foot, then left her to it. As Gayle was ambling out of the room, she swore she heard someone croaking her name. She whipped her head round to find Jacobus— well, only his feet, but Gayle could tell that it was him even from them.

            “Oh my God!” she screamed. “Phantom!”

            “Strawberry!”

            “How are you still alive? I thought you died!”  
            “Nope, I’m here! Oh, how I’ve missed you!”  
            Gayle came over and gave him a hug. It was kind of awkward, since he was pretty much mummified in plaster casts, and was lying down, but Jacobus appreciated the gesture. He found himself becoming quite turned-on by her touch, and a small boner arose from underneath his coverlet.

            “Oh, Phantom!” Gayle exclaimed. “Are you _that_ excited to see me?”

            “Of course, darling,” he replied, reaching up to throw his arms round her shoulders. She accepted this romantic/sexual gesture, leaning down so she could kiss his lips.

            “I want more than that, baby,” he whispered between her kisses. “Get on the bed…”

            Gayle straddled him, careful not to disturb his injuries or his IV drip, then threw off his coverlet to reveal an erection pushing against his unitard. She unzipped it, then after removing her own trousers, sat on his dick.

            Jacobus hissed in appreciation as he submitted to the sexual pleasure. He’d really missed fucking women, and now his favourite one was right on his cock. She started bouncing, quite carefully so as not to hurt him. Jacobus lay back, simply enjoying the feeling, and smiling as he saw Gayle moaning.

            Eventually, he came inside of her, too fast for her to get off.

            “Oh, bollocks!” he exclaimed. “I hope you don’t mind… Maybe you won’t get pregnant?”

            “I hope not. I’ve had unprotected vaginal sex quite a few times and not got knocked up. I think I’ll be alright.”

            But, little did she know, the Essence of Shrek increased fertility. It made Jacobus’ sperm super fast, and her egg drop into the perfect place. The lining of her uterus also built up thanks to the Essence, so altogether she was completely ready to get pregnant. The sperm battled through her cervix, swam up the labyrinthine channels, then fought for dominance at the egg. One victorious sperm pushed through its coating, and thus she was fertilised. 


	53. Chapter 53

_Chapter the Fifty-Third_

Yura was experiencing some serious withdrawal symptoms. One morning, he shuffled into the bathroom, stared his reflection in the mirror right in the eye, then threw his head into the toilet and threw up every single thing inside his stomach.

            Wiping his cracked and dry lips, he coughed a few times and gazed upon himself. He really looked rough. His face had a vaguely yellow pallor, with a vague sheen of sweat coating his skin. The bits of hair round his face were stuck to it, and the rest was lanky and greasy. His eyes were sunken, with huge dark circles underneath, and his stare was vacant and unnerving. When he breathed, it was like a smoker at high altitude, and when he coughed it was like his lungs were about to come up.

            Yura spat into the sink, since vile globules of mucus were stuck in his throat, then felt the urge to throw up creep back up on him. He bent over the toilet and waited for the gagging to commence, wiping some of the sweaty stickiness off his face.

            Then, he recalled how he felt when he was high on palyets, and was seized with a desire so deep that he almost burst into tears. He needed that stuff again, and he would do literally anything to get it.

            Deimos knocked on the door.

            “Phobos, are you alright?” he asked, his beautiful voice making Yura almost melt.

            “Yeah…” he replied, absolutely horrified at his own voice, which was raspy, strained and almost inaudible. He swallowed to get some moisture into his throat, then said: “I’m fine.”  
            “Are you sure? You sounded pretty bad in there…”  
            Yura splashed some cold water into his face and furiously dried himself on a towel. He took one final look in the mirror, grimacing at his drug-addicted appearance, then went to see Deimos.

            “Oh my God, Phobos! You look so ill! Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine, really,” he replied, sounding a lot more aggressive than he’d meant to sound. “Let’s go to morning briefing.”  
            Deimos put the back of his hand on Yura’s forehead, and withdrew it when he felt how boiling hot it was.

            “Jesus, Phobos! You’re burning up! Are you sure you don’t want to take the day off?”

            “No. I’ll live. I am fine.”

            Deimos did not press the matter any further, and they went in silence to morning briefing. During it, Yura was battling through waves of perspiration that were pouring intermittently from his body, and trying to hold down whatever stuff he had left in his stomach. His vision kept going in and out of focus, and he found it difficult to concentrate. He passingly noticed Alice pointing him and whispering something to another fighter, but he was so spaced-out he did not care.

            As soon as morning briefing was over, he sought out Alice.

            “I need more palyets,” he croaked. “I will pay you all I have for some.”  
            “Fat chance, princess,” she replied, pushing his face— which was alarmingly close to hers— out of the way. “Get your own.”  
            “I don’t know how! I don’t know the dealer!”  
            “Here,” she said, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. “Here is the information for the dealer on the ship. I had nothing to do with this.”

            Yura thanked her, then immediately sought out the dealer.

            Surprisingly, it turned out to be an incredibly high-ranking officer on the mission. He was loitering about in his office, and Yura went right up to him— but as soon as the officer saw his face, he intercepted because he knew _exactly_ why Yura was here.

            “More palyets, I assume?” he asked, rifling through some drawers. “For a dozen pills, let’s think… That’ll be one months’ pay, although I do accept cash payments.”

            “ _One month’s pay_?” Yura screeched, his voice going up about four octaves. “Are you being serious?”

            “Yes. Palyets is expensive. Now hand it over, honey.”

            “I’ll… uh… I’ll come back… sir.”

            He ran off, immediately thinking of strategies for how to make some coin. On the way, he bumped into Alice, and decided to confront her.

            “You didn’t tell me that palyets was so damned expensive!” he shrieked.

            “Voice down, Jesus!” Alice hissed. “I know it’s expensive; I never said it was cheap, did I? You’ll have to work out how to make the money yourself.”

            “How the hell did _you_ make the money?”

            “I wasn’t the one making the money. I got my nav to whore himself out. He made great money in just one night.”

            Yura was inflamed. Alice’s navigator rent-boying it to make dosh? What?! There could only be _one_ rent boy, and Yura was he.

            During the day, he loitered around areas where fighters gathered the most, making secret hand signals that those in the know would take to mean him offering sex for money. In fact, the signals were so complex that Yura organised a few appointments for the next few evenings, negotiating the price and the acts to be done. It was the language of the rent boys.

            That night, he returned to his dorm to find it completely empty. Deimos was participating in some patrols and would not be back for some time, so Yura could slut it out without worrying about him intruding. Of course he felt bad for doing this behind his back, but his addiction was so strong that he was willing to do anything.

            His first client was Jeanne.

            “Hyacinth! What in the name of Christ are you doing here?” he exclaimed.

            “I wanted to have sex with you,” she replied coolly. “I heard you were available, so I thought I’d drop by.”  
            “Luckily for you, I had no one booked this evening. Unluckily for you, I am _a fucking rent boy._ ”

            “And?”

            “That means I only have sex with men.”

            “Really?” Jeanne cried, truly shocked.

            “ _Yes!_ That is the entire definition of the term!”

            “Oh… Shows just how much I know. Such a pity that all this money will go to waste…”  
            She flashed a huge roll of notes, and Yura actually got aroused at the sight. He needed that money so bad.

            “Alright. Just for that money— and you will give me _all_ of it— I will have sex with you.”  
            “Sweet! But wait, before we start, are you clean of STDs? I know you’ve been banging a lot of people…”  
            “Oh, fuck off. Not _that_ many people. And yes, I am.”

            “Good. I want to stay clean for as long as possible. I am only sixteen.”  
            “Umm… Only sixteen? You realise that this is not legal, then?”

            Yura should have been more morally repulsed, but he craved palyets so much that he would have committed far worse acts.

            “Can you eat me out, please?” Jeanne asked.

            “Eat… you… out…?” Yura repeated, simultaneously appalled and way out of his depth. “I’ve never, uh, never eaten anyone out before.”  
            “Well, this will be your first time. Come on, it’ll be great. Can you get naked first, though?”

            “Oh, alright…”  
            He started stripping off. As soon as his shirt was off, the door slammed open and Deimos blustered in.

            “PHOBOS! HYACINTH? HYACINTH! _HYACINTH_!” he screeched, bursting into tears. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”

            Jeanne tried to explain, but was cut off by Deimos whipping out the concealed knife blades in his gloves and running them through her throat. She died soon after, then silence fell.

            “W-wha… what… what did I just do…?” Deimos muttered.

            “Deimos… Oh… oh my Lord…”

            They stared at the cadaver for long moments, kind of willing her to move or breathe. However, nothing happened, so they continued to stand in stunned silence. Eventually, Deimos covered the corpse with his bed sheets, and then Yura started weeping.

            “This is all my fault…” he said. “All of this… I am so sorry…”

            “It’s okay, Phobos, it’s not… It’s… it’s all my fault…”

            They embraced and started sobbing together.

            “I was only doing it because…” Yura began, before feeling the tears clog up his throat again. “Because… I’m a _drug addict_! Deimos, I’m a _DRUG ADDICT!_ ”

            Deimos broke away from the hug to look him deep in the eye. One of his eyebrows was raised so high that Yura could no longer see it behind his hair.

            “Palyets… It has been my undoing…” he confessed melodramatically.

            “Oh, Phobos… It’s fine, it’s fine… I love you nonetheless!”

            Yura was taken aback. His eyes widened like two shiny moons. “You _love_ me?”

            “Well… yeah… I do. I love you, Phobos.”

            “And I love you too, Deimos!” Yura spluttered, far too shocked to sound romantic. This really had been a crazy evening.

            _Oh, fuck,_ Yura thought. _You love Deimos. And Apollo. Don’t forget Apollo. You’re a bit of a whore, aren’t you?_

            Deimos began to stroke Yura’s cheek, then gave him a hesitant kiss. They were far too shaken to take it any further, but ended up moving positions so they could hug properly, and tripping over Jeanne’s dead body.

            “Oh, shit the bed!” Yura hissed.

            “We need to dispose of this body!”

            They spent the rest of the night thinking of a believable cover story.


	54. Chapter 54

_Chapter the Fifty-Fourth_

Laurentina was rather worried about Jaden. It was normal for him to go AWOL for ages at a time, since he was hanging out with the other fighters and getting into all kinds of scrapes, but now he’d been gone for quite some time. She was missing his huge cock, so resolved to go search for him.

            The ship was massive, but there were only a few places he could be. Laurentina did not think of this, and searched the entire place. She started on the top deck, which was a kind of mezzanine floor looking out onto the docking station and loading bays, then worked her way downwards until she was in the very bowels of the craft.

            The last room she looked in was the morgue. This was a highly grim and macabre place, where the dead crew members hung out before being incinerated and their ashes scattered into space. There was a disgustingly pungent smell permeating the area, and as soon as Laurentina entered the room, she gagged at the stench.

            Fearing the worst, Laurentina began to peer under the sheets of all the gurneys to see if Jaden were under one of them. She found a variety of randoms, including the janitor and a few medical attendants, and then a very familiar face.

            “Hyacinth!” she said to herself. “She’s dead?!”

            She used the advanced technology on her tablet to hack into Jeanne’s death record (which was contained on a small device next to her body), to see the details of her demise. Her death was incredibly recent— just yesterday, in fact. What was the meaning of this?

            “... this dude named Michael used to ride motorcycles, dick bigger than a tower, I ain’t talkin’ bout Eiffel…” Laurentina heard a voice sing.

            “Shit!” she muttered, hiding behind a curtain.

            “Now that’s re-re- _reeeeeaaaaal_ …” the voice, who revealed itself to belong to a morgue attendant, continued.

            Laurentina peered round, to find the attendant scanning Jeanne’s corpse and logging some information.

            “By the way, what he say—”  
            “VOLKOV! SHUT UP!” another voice called from a different part of the morgue.

            “Yes yes, whatever!” Volkov replied, leaving the room of corpses.

            Laurentina crept out from behind the curtain and sprinted away, her mind full of crazy thoughts. Why was Jeanne dead? What on earth was she doing there? _What song was that morgue attendant singing?_ She was turning these things over and over again in her head, wondering mostly what Jeanne was doing, dead in the morgue. Upon inspection of the body, Laurentina had seen tell-tale signs of a murder, which threw up another question. Who had killed Jeanne?

            It was lunchtime when she returned to civilisation, so began to spread news of her discovery to the navs. Yura had looked a little guilty when Laurentina told him, but tried to keep his face under control and not give anything away. Not that he’d killed her, but you know. He was right there.

            For the rest of the day, all the navs were talking about was the murder of Jeanne. Many were grieving, and incredibly sad about her death, but some were morbidly fascinated, since this was a bona fide murder mystery. A few groups of people began to formulate ideas of who may have done it, and in total there was a real high-school rumour kind of feel about it. So much weird shit was spread around, but everyone certainly was determined to get to the bottom of it.


	55. Chapter 55

_Chapter the Fifty-Fifth_

It had been difficult for Alice and Matilda to be apart from each other. Since getting reassigned, they found themselves really pining. They had made it official some time ago, and loathed the fact that they had to be with different partners. It was almost impossible for them to meet up anywhere, and when they did, all they did was take palyets. Their addictions had really messed up their relationship, but they could not quit it.

            One night, at about midnight, they decided to meet and catch up properly. Alice brought a bag of palyets pills with her, as well as the other paraphernalia, and after quickly getting their fix, they began to chat.

            “How’s your fighter treating you then, babe?” Alice asked.

            “Oh, he’s okay,” Matilda answered. “Seems nice enough, but I really miss having you.”

            “I miss you too, Watson. Sometimes I’m lying in my bed, and I just wish so bad that you were there next to me. Whenever I see you during the day, I can’t help desiring you so much. I would take you anywhere and everywhere.”

            “Take me?” Matilda repeated, not sure what Alice meant.

            “Take you, yeah. Like this…”

            Her hand travelled up Matilda’s leg, making her shiver. Her fingers gently brushed her inner thigh, reaching so close to her pussy that she got wet just thinking about it.

            “Then take me, Sherlock…” Matilda moaned.

            Alice pulled down Matilda’s bottom-half garments and immediately began probing her vagina. She got two fingers in first time, reaching deep in and withdrawing with very quick movements. Matilda lay back, closing her eyes and panting as she felt the pleasure. Alice, as well as lust and passion, felt rather moved that she was finally with Matilda again. She had missed her so much, and now they were back together, she was really quite overwhelmed.

            It did not take long for Matilda to be moaning and screaming. Alice was so far inside her that she was literally hitting the g-spot, and Matilda absolutely loved it. With every single movement of Alice’s fingers, she moaned some words of ecstasy, getting closer and closer to the joy of climax.

            “SHERLOCK! SHERLOCK! OH, SHERLOCK!” she screamed, as her orgasm hit.

            “Yes, Watson, cum for me…” Alice murmured, watching her girlfriend experience the intense pleasure.

            After Matilda was spent, she put her clothes back on, and they returned to training like nothing had happened.

            But oh, how wrong they were. Alice, sadly, had just contracted the Essence of Shrek.


	56. Chapter 56

_Chapter the Fifty-Sixth_

“Cain, please can you fuck me tonight?”

            Cain looked up from his work and laughed. “Why so eager, slut-face?”

            “Because you’ve been fucking _so_ many other men, and I want my share!” Abel replied indignantly.

            “You got DP’ed by me and Apollo! Wasn’t that enough?”

            “That was _ages_ ago! I want sex _now_!”

            “No fucking way, if you’re gonna ask like that! You are a thirsty little whore!”  
            “Oh fuck off, Cain. I just want sex. That’s all. I’m feeling a little left out.”  
            “If you want sex, that slut navigator Phobos is whoring himself out to fund his palyets addiction. Classic.”

            “I don’t want sex with Phobos, I want sex with you! Now give it to me!” Abel screamed, launching at him with an erect penis.

            “Fuck off!” Cain bellowed, slapping him across the face. Abel melodramatically fell over with a yelp, then struggled to his knees and tried to suck Cain’s dick.

            “PLEASE FUCK ME!” Abel wailed, ripping off Cain’s unitard.

            “GO TO HELL!”

            Cain grabbed him by the hair, then smashed his skull into the wall. It was so forceful that the wall dented, and Abel was knocked unconscious. But Cain was not finished.

            Just to make sure that his navigator was really dead, Cain threw his body into the wall a few more times. His skull soon shattered, and blood exploded out everywhere. It covered all surfaces of the dorm, and when Cain realised what he’d done, he literally shat his pants a little.

            “Oh, fuck…” he muttered, wiping his ass with the collar of Abel’s jacket. “What am I meant to do now?”

            He wrapped the body up in his sheets, then slung it over his shoulder and crept to the airlock where officers went out for spacewalks. No one was around, so Cain dumped Abel’s corpse inside and closed the door.

            “Goodbye, darling,” he said, pressing the button to open the airlock.

            Space sucked Abel’s body out, and awkwardly the sheets unfurled to reveal his gruesome, mangled body. He floated across the huge glass panel in the docking station, but somehow not many people noticed.

            Cain then returned to his dorm to clean up.


	57. Chapter 57

_Chapter the Fifty-Seventh_

“ _DEAD_?” Milankovic screeched.

            “Yes, sir,” Encke said calmly.

            “ _HOW MANY?_ ”

            “Eight, sir.”

            “ _WHAT? Чё за галима?! WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE HOLY FATHER IS GOING ON?”_

“I don’t know, sir,” Keeler put in. “Ghost, Misfit, Endymion and Serenity were never found. A few people saw Abel’s body floating about in space. It looked in a pretty bad way. You know about the three idiots that had a fight to the death— but one of them is actually still alive, in the medical bay.”

            “Christ… What about Hyacinth?” Milankovic asked, trying to remain calm.

            “She’s in the morgue. No one knows how she got there, but morgue attendant Volkov reckoned she was murdered.”

            “Well morgue attendant Volkov is never wrong. Hyacinth was murdered! Christ alive! What is going on?”

            “I don’t know, sir,” Keeler and Encke said simultaneously.

            “I’m calling a meeting. Keeler, announce that over intercom.”

            “Certainly, sir.”

            “And sound _angry_.”

            “Will do, sir.”

            Keeler put on his headset, which had a few incredibly long, blonde hairs stuck in it (longer and blonder than Keeler’s hair, even), then spoke.

            “Fighters and navigators, get _the fuck_ to the briefing room, NOW. Commander Milankovic wants to speak with you. HURRY UP!”

            Everyone heard this, including Seryozha, who was in the middle of taking a shit*.

            _*btw, this is called foreshadowing._

            “Fuck,” he hissed, finishing off as quickly as possible.

            Once everyone was assembled in the briefing room, Commander Milankovic spoke to them all.

            “Now, I am sure you are aware that a number of fighters and navigators have mysteriously died. First of all, I am _incredibly_ suspicious of ALL of you, because at least one of the deaths has been found to be a murder. I will tell you now that if I find out which cretin has been _murdering_ people, I will eject you from the airlock faster than you can say ‘shit’.

            “Secondly, because of this volume of deaths, I will need to shuffle the pairings around. No, you do not get a choice in this. Strawberry, you are back with Phantom, as you may or may not know he is still alive. Chips, you go with Cain—”

            “Oh, shit,” Sasha the Soldier said to himself, unconsciously clenching his ass cheeks.

            “Scarlett, you go with Apollo.”

            “Fuck yes!” Laurentina hissed, punching the air. “Such a hottie! Isn’t this awesome, Phobos?”

            Yura gave her a death glare. She then realised that he was _kind of_ fucking Apollo, so wouldn’t really take kindly to Laurentina lusting after him as well.

            “Sorry, Phobos…”

            He dismissed her with a fab wave of the hand.

            Milankovic dismissed the meeting, and Laurentina immediately sought out Seryozha.

            “Fancy a quick fuck?” she asked, when she had moved all her stuff to his dorm.

            “Absolutely not,” he replied succinctly.

            “Why not?”

            “One, I am gay. Two, I have fucked far too many women on this mission. Three, no. Just no.”

            “Please!”

            “No. Stop pestering me.”

            “BUT I WANT TO HAVE MY ASS RIPPED IN TWO BY YOUR HUGE DICK!”

            “FINE THEN, HOE. SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!”  
            He threw her face-down onto the bed, and held her head against the pillow while he ripped down his unitard and prepared to actually tear her ass cheeks apart with his cock.

            Unfortunately, he held Laurentina down for a little too long, and she soon stopped moving altogether. He gingerly turned her over, and saw that she was dead as shit.

            “Bollocks.”

            He carefully put her clothes back on and wrapped her in her blanket, much like Cain had done. Except this time, Seryozha did not go to the airlock.

            Throwing Laurentina’s body onto his shoulder, he sought out Alice’s room. Thankfully, no one was in it, and she had foolishly left the door open. He deposited the corpse on Alice’s bunk, putting it under many blankets to make it look like there was nothing there.

            _What a shock she’ll get!_ he thought, rubbing his hands together with glee. _It’ll be priceless!_

He honestly didn’t care that this framing of Alice could result in her death, because he really did not like her. She liked Cain, and in Seryozha’s mind, that was enough to warrant her execution. Oh, how he wanted to see her fly out of the airlock…


	58. Chapter 58

_Chapter the Fifty-Eighth_

At lunchtime, Cain reached a new level of annoyingness.

            “All of you should watch your backs,” he announced. “With a murderer on the loose, I’d _hate_ for any of you to pop your clogs prematurely! Be careful now, my lovelies!”

            “It’s probably you committing the murders, Cain,” Alice said. “Honestly, no offence, but you are the most likely suspect.”

            Suddenly, some military police rushed in and grabbed her shoulders, throwing her onto the table, right into Sasha K’s bowl of borsch.

            “What is the meaning of this?” Alice screamed, struggling in their grip.

            “You are under arrest on suspicion of murdering the navigator Scarlett,” one of the policemen said.

            “What? No! I haven’t done anything!” she bellowed, spitting in one of their faces. Unfortunately for her, he had on a pair of goggles, so the spit just stuck to that and gently dripped off onto her head.

            “Ha HA!” Cain chuckled. “I knew it!”

            “But Cain, I thought we were friends?!”

            “No way, sunshine. I don’t like you at all.”

            “Fuck you, Cain!” Alice wailed, trying to headbutt his crotch. He dodged out of the way and patted her head.

            “Aww, little Sherlock. It’ll be alright. I’m sure your death will be swift and easy.”

            The military policemen frog-marched Alice to the ship’s courtroom, and all the fighters and navs were called in for the trial. The judge was none other than Commander Milankovic.

            “I think the accused should speak first,” he said, rearranging the gross wig on his head.

            “I have nothing to say except that I am innocent!” she protested, struggling in the handcuffs she’d been put in.

            “Oh, well that’s alright then. You’re free to— FUCK NO. If you’re innocent, GIVE ME _EVIDENCE_!”

            “I don’t have any!”

            “BUT I DO!” Seryozha interrupted, standing up and striding to the middle of the courtroom.

            “Apollo?! What is your evidence?” Milankovic asked.

            Seryozha got out a small projector from his pocket (it’s the future, they have great technology) and projected a picture onto the wall. It was a screengrab from the CCTV footage in Alice’s room, clearly showing Laurentina’s body being discovered by Carlo.

            “Well that’s that, isn’t it?” Milankovic stated, clapping his hands. “Guilty. Case closed. Dismissed. Awesome. See you later. Lenox, Orr, escort Alice to the airlock.”

            The military police officers Lenox and O’Hara grabbed Alice by the shoulders and took her, kicking and screaming, to the airlock. The rest of the people in the courtroom disappeared, except Milankovic and Seryozha.

            “Thank you very much, sir,” Seryozha said, standing to attention in front of the Commander. “for getting me out of that.”

            “I can’t have my favourite fighter being charged with murder, can I? Now, I think it’s time for payment for my very kind actions.”

            “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” He nodded curtly.

            Milankovic hitched his robe up and removed his wig. Seryozha stepped up to where he was sitting— a high-up judge’s chair— and kneeled down between the Commander’s legs.

            To be perfectly honest, Seryozha enjoyed sucking Milankovic’s dick far more than all the sex he’d had with the women on this mission. He had seen far too many vaginas for his liking, the only saviour coming in the form of that ethereal, divine beauty Phobos. But then, he was the dom. Sometimes he liked to let his hair down and go submissive for a while. Sucking dicks was really quite relaxing and fun for him. Yes, this was Milankovic, and Milankovic was a disgusting old man, but still. He had a dick. That’s all he wanted.

            “Oh, Apollo… Oh, you do know how to use your lips… Oh yes… Yes…” Milankovic moaned, grabbing fistfuls of Seryozha’s godly hair in the midst of his pleasure.

            After a while, this became, to Seryozha, a mere military operation. An order. A thing to be completed, and then on to the next one. He thought nothing of making it pleasurable for himself; he just focused on making Milankovic cum so he could leave and get on with the rest of his day. Quite frankly, he wanted to watch Alice’s execution.

            Milankovic ejaculated, and Seryozha dutifully swallowed. He stood up, Milankovic took off his robe and then showed him the door.

            “Very good work, Apollo. You may go.”

            “Of course, sir. It was nothing, sir. Any time, sir.”

            He saluted with (very arousing) military precision, turned on his heel in a fabulous manner, then marched off in full army fashion. Milankovic bit his lip at the sight of his favourite fighter’s ass, and wished he’d asked to fuck _that_ instead of getting a BJ. There was always next time. And there was always blackmail. 


	59. Chapter 59

_Chapter the Fifty-Ninth_

Everyone on the ship had gathered to watch Alice going into the airlock. She was so hysterical that the policemen considered sedating her, but the Lead Fighter and Navigator Encke and Keeler forbade them. They reckoned it would be a lot more fun to watch her die in agony and panic.

            Officers Lenox and O’Hara shoved her into the airlock. Alice tried to bite their hands off, but could not, since she was gagged. The police officers locked the door to the airlock, leaving Alice alone inside.

            She rushed head-on into the door, which was made of glass, and only succeeded in bruising her forehead as she smacked into it. Everyone laughed at her, and she gave them the meanest death-stare on the planet.

            As per tradition on this ship, a few fighters bade her farewell by shooting some lasers from their guns. They were not dangerous, so did not accidentally kill anyone. As the final laser was fired, Officer Lenox smashed the button to open the airlock, and Alice’s body was suddenly sucked away. As she rushed out, her hands groped for anything to hold onto, but it was in vain. She was gone too quickly.

            Matilda was sobbing uncontrollably. She hid her face in her hands, and a random janitor cuddled her to soothe her grief. No one noticed them, since most people were whooping and shouting at the hilarity of her death.

            “Guys, guys!” Johan exclaimed. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to see her body from the docking station!”

            “FUCK YES!” everyone cried, running in a wild mob towards that area.

            Sadly, Alice’s body was not to be found.

            “We can get into our starfighters and fly after her!” Deimos suggested, shocking everyone with his speech. Not many people knew that he actually knew how, or was willing to. It was odd, but a few people found themselves very turned-on at the sound of his voice.

            “What a brilliant idea, myshonok!” Cain shouted, slapping him on the back.

            “ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Keeler screamed, silencing everyone with his commanding tone of voice. “YOU ARE _NOT,_ IN ANY UNIVERSE, GOING TO GO OUT IN YOUR STARFIGHTERS! WHO THE FUCK SUGGESTED THIS?”

            Everyone pointed to Deimos. Keeler strode up and pulled him by his ear to the head of the multitude.

            “DEIMOS, YOU ARE ON A CHARGE. CLEANING THE LATRINES. HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST SUCH A STUPID THING? HOW _DARE_ YOU? DO YOU REALISE HOW CLOSE WE ARE TO INFILTRATING THE SWAMP? YOUR FUCKING RIDICULOUS IDEA WOULD HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING! YOU SHOULD BE GLAD THAT I’M NOT RESIGNING YOU TO THE SAME FATE AS SHERLOCK. GET BACK TO YOUR DUTIES, YOU STEAMING HEAP OF SHIT.”

            He roughly shoved Deimos back into the gaggle of people, then clapped his hands twice.

            “DID YOU HEAR WHAT I JUST SAID? BACK TO DUTY! ALL OF YOU! MOVE, YOU WORTHLESS PILES OF HORSE TURD!”

            Everyone rushed off, saluting the irate Keeler as they passed him. Keeler was so pissed he could barely calm himself down enough to salute back. Once everyone was gone, he grabbed his stress ball (onto which he’d drawn Yura’s face) and squeezed it like there was no tomorrow.


	60. Chapter 60

_Chapter the Sixtieth_

Milankovic called Carlo and Seryozha for a special briefing.

            “Since both of you are now without partners, you are being assigned to each other. What I w—”

            “ENEMY PATROL SPOTTED! 10,000 METRES ON LEFT FLANK! TEN SHIPS, WELL-ARMED! ALL FIGHTERS AND NAVIGATORS REPORT! NOW, YOU USELESS WHORES!” Keeler’s melodious voice thundered, over the intercom.

            “You heard the man! Off you go! Into Apollo’s starfighter!” Milankovic ordered.

            “Yes, sir!” they both barked, saluting and sprinting off.

            As they rushed down the corridors to the docking station, Carlo decided it would be best to get to know his new fighter now.

            “You any good at this?”

            “Yes. Are you?”

            “I guess.”

            “Great. Just get me to the right place so I can shoot down some ships. That’s all you need to do.”

            Carlo was insulted that Seryozha thought so low of the navigators’ duties. It was so much more difficult than just steering the ship, but that brutish fighter did not understand that.

 _Ha, let him try navving for one day and see how he likes it!_ Carlo thought.

            They reached the docking station, where a very stressed and sweating Keeler was hurrying everyone into their starfighters. He was screaming so much his voice was getting hoarse, and he was beginning to feel quite faint due to lack of breath.

            “Keeler, let’s join in this mission!” suggested Encke. “We haven’t had any action in ages!”  
            Keeler turned to the sound of his fighter’s voice, and his expression instantly softened. He smiled at Encke, and Encke smiled back.

            “Alright, Encke. Let’s do it. We’ll see if you’ve still got it, eh?”

            Keeler shoved a few stragglers in the right general direction, then went with his fighter to their starfighter. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Keeler’s stress levels went down. That Encke did things to him that were nigh on magical.

            Gayle struggled into her seat, and frantically pulled at the seatbelt to get it to go over her huge stomach. Somehow, she looked about nine months pregnant, and she had no idea why. In reality, it was because she actually _was_ pregnant, but she ruled that option out from the outset, since she didn’t think it could happen so fast. Little did she know, the Essence of Shrek sped up the process, meaning that she could go into labour at any moment. She was _that_ far along.

            “Are you okay, sweetie?” Jacobus asked, turning his entire chair around to see her, since he had lost his peripheral vision (and the sight in one eye) after his little accident in space. (He had an eyepatch on and everything.)

            “I’m fine, darling. Don’t worry,” she replied, feeling a contraction hit. “Really… Don’t worry…”

            Jacobus turned back around and focused on the upcoming task. Keeler gave their ship the signal to take off, so they zoomed out and went to join the fray.

            There were a shit-ton of enemy ships here. They were taking quite a beating from the fighters, since they were the pinnacle of powerful armaments, but there were many of them rushing in as backup. The fight was set to be a long one.

            Johan and Matilda were working well together. Although Matilda was still heartbroken at the loss of her girlfriend, she put that aside for just this once, and helped Johan to shoot the shit out of the enemy patrol. Johan was an ace, and killed many in the barbaric horde.

            Carlo was actually a pretty shit navigator, so did not get Seryozha in a good enough place to actually fire on anyone. Seryozha kept yelling at him to do better, but Carlo simply could not. He had not trained at a good enough training school, and did not use the time he had on the ship to improve. What a silly young man.

            “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, HURRY UP!” Seryozha bellowed, as their starfighter was hit and Seryozha was stabbed in the eye by a flying bit of shrapnel. “MY FUCKING EYE! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”  
            “You should have been wearing your goggles, Apollo!” Carlo replied, gritting his teeth as he focused on his duty.

            “GO TO HELL!” Seryozha spat, ripping the shrapnel from his eyeball and throwing it in Carlo’s direction. That was a terrible idea, since his eye began to bleed like he was crying. He really could have done with utilising Jacobus’ eyepatch at that moment.

            Cain was really getting into this fighting. He was incredibly aroused, since he really got off to this kind of thing, and fought the urge to take his hands off the controls and masturbate. When he was done with this, he would jerk off like a motherfucker. Or get his navigator to jerk him off. It didn’t really matter.

            “You alright there, darling?” Cain asked his nav, like such a lad.

            “I’m fine, Cain,” Sasha the Soldier replied, not really concentrating on speaking.

            “Cold!” Cain exclaimed, laughing to himself.

            Yura and Deimos were going swimmingly. Yura was a brilliant navigator, so managed to steer the starfighter into tactically the best position, allowing Deimos to shoot the fuck out of any oncoming enemies. They’d downed a number of ships, expending as little ammo as possible. They were honestly the dream team.

            I would have said they were _undoubtedly_ the dream team, but we must remember that Sasha  & Sasha were also on this mission. They were like fire, whizzing through the melee, not taking any damage, blasting enemy ships to pieces. Sasha B was a prodigy at navigating, and Sasha K controlled the guns with such a delicate hand that he could probably have shot the seeds out of an apple balanced on someone’s head at ten light years away. Moreover, they went about their killing with a smile, a smirk, and an occasional witty remark.

            Last, but certainly not least, Gayle and Jacobus. They were having a slight issue.

            “I’M GIVING BIRTH!” she shrieked. “HELP!”

            Jacobus turned around, his mouth falling open. “What on earth are you talking about?”

            “I AM GIVING BIRTH! I FEEL THE HEAD PUSHING OUT OF MY VAGINA!”

            “Remain calm! Keep navigating! Wait until we reach the ship!”

            “I CAN’T!” she screeched, letting go of the controls.

            The starfighter fell from its trajectory, pitching downwards until the nose was jabbing into the top of Carlo and Seryozha’s ship. In a mad rage, Seryozha switched his headset so he could communicate with them, then made a noise down the microphone that can only be described as a pterodactyl.

            “ _WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU DRUNK OR SOMETHING? GET YOUR FUCKING STARFIGHTER OFF US! NOW!_ ”

            Neither Gayle nor Jacobus answered, since they were too busy freaking out. Their ship continued to plough into Carlo and Seryozha’s, until Carlo got them out of the way and Seryozha shot Jacobus and Gayle’s ship to smithereens. That wasn’t technically allowed, but in the middle of the wild melee, it _kind of_ looked like they’d been shot down by enemies.

            “Did you just kill Strawberry and Phantom?” Carlo asked.

            Seryozha replied “Yes”, then screeched at his navigator to actually get on with his job.


	61. Chapter 61

_Chapter the Sixty-First_

“We’ve been cornered!” Johan shouted over his headset, to all the starfighters.

            “So have we!” Deimos cried.

            All the fighters and navigators searched the scene for the two ships. Yura and Deimos were at one end of a huge cluster of enemy ships, being viciously shot at, while Johan and Matilda were facing the same thing on the complete opposite end.

            “Apollo! Antinous! Take them down!” Encke ordered, his smooth caramel voice making Carlo a little wet.

            “Which one, sir?” he asked.

            “Whichever! I don’t care!”

            “SAVE US!” Johan screeched. “ANTINOUS, PLEASE!”

            “No! Save us!” Deimos protested.

            “HURRY UP!” Keeler bellowed, his voice very scratchy and hoarse thanks to his previous excessive shouting.

            “Apollo, let’s save Hadrian and Watson!”

            Blinded in his hatred for Deimos, Seryozha agreed to this.

            “Apollo! ...what?” Yura interjected, even over the headset sounding horrified and desperate.

            “Oh my God…” Seryozha muttered, his stomach tying in knots at the thought of Yura getting shot down. “Antinous, we have to save Phobos and Deimos!”

            “No! Absolutely not!” Carlo cried.

            “Absolutely _yes_! Phobos is my fucking… shit, I dunno, my fucking _boyfriend_! I’m not just gonna let him die!”

            Carlo could not boast that Johan was his boyfriend as well, but attempted to counter-argue.

            “I like Hadrian as well! I don’t want him to die!”

            They began to argue about how much they loved their respective men, forgetting that this was all going out over comms, meaning that everyone heard it. If one listened to their headset hard enough, they would have heard Cain chuckling quietly. He almost pissed himself when he heard Seryozha’s voice break like he was about to cry, so passionate he was about saving his dear Phobos.

            “I AM GOING TO BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH YOUR OWN FUCKING HEADSET IF YOU DON’T NAVIGATE OUR GOD-DAMN SHIP TOWARDS PHOBOS AND DEIMOS. THAT IS NOT AN EMPTY THREAT. NOW _GO!_ ” Seryozha thundered, deafening everyone who had a headset on.

            “NO! I AM GOING TO SAVE HADRIAN!”

            Seryozha fumbled around his control panel area for some kind of weapon, and found his powerful Russian laser gun. He swung round in his chair, almost wrenching it out of the ground with the force of it, and pointed the gun at Carlo’s head. He fired off one shot, purposely only hitting his shoulder.

            “Do it. _Now,_ ” he ordered. “Or I will shoot your brain right out of your fucking face.”

            Carlo was a weak spirit, so he obeyed Seryozha’s command. Seryozha swung back round in his chair, wiping another trickle of blood from his mangled eyeball, then put his hands on the controls, ready to kill the bastards that dared endanger his Phobos.

            “Antinous! Please!” Johan begged, sounding in the absolute throes of stricken hysteria.

            “I’m sorry, Hadrian, I—”

            “SHUT UP AND GET ON WITH IT!” Seryozha interrupted.

            Carlo steered their starfighter towards where Yura and Deimos were, then Seryozha let loose with a volley of fire. At the same time, the enemies encircling Matilda and Johan finished them off, their ship exploding in a multi-coloured explosion of fire and debris.

            “ANTIN—” Johan began, before being abruptly and disturbingly cut off. Carlo, at that moment, burst into tears. Thankfully, he did not need to do any hard navigating at this point, since Seryozha was still busy shooting down the enemy ships.

            Once this was done, Yura and Deimos returned to the fray. It was somewhat smaller than before, since all but three of the enemy had been obliterated, but Deimos got the honour of blowing up the last ship.

            “Good one, guys,” Milankovic said over comms, from the safety of his battle HQ. “We lost only one ship, and that’s great in my books. They’ll get full honours and whatnot as soon as the mission is over. Now, my darlings, please return to the docking station. Medical attendants are coming to immediately deal with any injuries.”

            All the remaining starfighters swung back in the direction of the main ship, and zoomed towards it, filled with many and varied emotions.


	62. Chapter 62

_Chapter the Sixty-Second_

As soon as Seryozha’s foot had touched the solid ground of the docking station, Carlo launched himself through the entrance hatch and knocked him to the ground.

            “What the fuck?” Seryozha exclaimed, reaching out to grab something on Carlo’s body with which he could throw the nav off.

            “I hate you! You are such a whore! You made my fighter die! I’m GONNA KILL YOU!”

            Seryozha got a handful of Carlo’s sweaty hair and pulled him by his head so he was sprawled out on the ground in front of him. Seryozha swiftly stood up, and kicked Carlo into the middle of the docking station as if he were a football. He was about to step on the nav’s head, but Carlo got a hold of his foot and sent him flying backwards.

            He didn’t quite lose his balance, so Carlo rushed over and tried to headbutt him. Seryozha gripped Carlo’s shoulders and shoved him into the side of a starfighter, raising his fist in readiness to rearrange his face.

            Carlo, however, fought back, and a full-scale fistfight broke out between the two men. Everyone gathered around them in a rap battle-esque circle, willing them to beat each other into a pulp.

            “What on earth is going on here?” Encke exclaimed. “Stop this immediately!”

            He grabbed both of them by the hair and tried to physically separate them, but they were still going at it like two girls in a catfight.

            “STOP THIS, BEFORE I CUT YOUR COCKS OFF!” Keeler screeched, barrelling into them to break them apart. Seryozha was restrained by Encke, while Carlo was held in the vice-like grip of the Lead Navigator.

            “I need a word with you, you little bitch,” Keeler and Encke said, at exactly the same time, in exactly the same tone.

            They manhandled their perps into opposite ends of the docking station to talk to them.

            “What was that?” Encke asked, saying it in a way that demanded a perfect answer or he’d beat the shit out of someone.

            “Sir, I—”

            “No. Shut up. I don’t care. I just thought I’d warn you that most of the high command on this mission think you’re the person killing all these fighters and navigators. I’d recommend not doing anything suspicious from now on.”

            “Sir, he attacked me first, he—”

            “Zip it. It’s still suspicious. Commander Milankovic has his eye on you. Getting into fights with navigators is not exactly going to come off well, is it?” he said, in very short, clipped tones.

            “No, sir. I understand, sir.”

            “I don’t care whether you’re the killer or not; all I ask is that you lay low. Commander Milankovic thinks low of fighters enough as it is. My job is on the line. Don’t act out, Apollo.”

            Seryozha nodded in an incredibly military way, then returned to civilisation to get seen by a medical attendant (his eye was oozing pus now).

            With Carlo and Keeler, the scene was very much different.

            “Now, Antinous, I am very pissed. I will try and remain calm, though, otherwise I will literally and physically have a heart attack. I’ll make this quick—”

            “Uhhhhhhh…” Carlo moaned, getting hard at the sight and sound of beautiful Keeler.

            “Excuse me?”

            “You are so beautiful…”

            “EXCUSE ME?”

            Carlo rushed for the Lead Navigator, attacking him with moist, warm kisses, ripping at his clothes with his hungry hands. Keeler screamed and tried to set off his rape alarm (which all navs— but no fighters— were contractually obliged to carry), but Carlo was too fierce. Eventually, Keeler got one hand free, and used it to sock Carlo in the face. He dropped like a stone, crumpling into a small and inelegant heap on the floor. Keeler spat on him for good measure, then took his arms and dragged his sorry ass to the medical bay.


	63. Chapter 63

_Chapter the Sixty-Third_

An emergency meeting was called that evening, as soon as some of Keeler’s lackeys spotted that they were as close to the Swamp as they could get without being detected. Milankovic himself bellowed over the intercom for everyone to assemble in the briefing room, and once they were assembled there, he told the fighters and navs of these new developments.

            “We are now on the final part of the mission, ladies, gentlemen and— wait. There are only men left. What a misogynist’s dream! Anyway, gentlemen, we are incredibly close to the Swamp. You may remember at the beginning of the mission I told you that the four best pairs will be selected for the prestigious final part of the mission, but now it appears that there are only four pairs left. So, all of you will be going to the Swamp.”

            “Fuck yes!” Cain hissed.

            “Shut up, Mr Cain,” Milankovic ordered, putting a finger over his lips. “Now, since time is of the essence, we will be penetrating the stronghold tomorrow night. I expect you to have an early night tonight, and be training hard tomorrow. And as strong as the temptation for… _intoxication_ is, do not succumb to these chemical pleasures. I will be watching you.”  
            He looked pointedly at Yura, who was looking even worse than before thanks to palyets withdrawal. Yura avoided the Commander’s gaze and started absentmindedly playing with his hair (gods, how he needed it cut).

            “Now piss off, men. See you bright and early tomorrow for morning briefing, where I will further detail mission arrangements.”

            Everyone saluted him, then trotted off to bed. 


	64. Chapter 64

_Chapter the Sixty-Fourth_

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Sasha B muttered, stabbing his piece of black bread repeatedly with a fork.

            “What’s up?” his fighter asked, sliding onto the bench to sit next to him.

            “Nothing, nothing,” Sasha B replied, shaking the mangled bit of bread from off the fork.

            “So swearing whilst stabbing bread is normal for you?” Sasha K teased.

            “Uh, yeah… Totally…”

            “What’s _actually_ up, Euryalus?”

            “Just shit-scared about this mission. Shit-scared. I don’t even know if that’s a word, but I am shit-scared,” he admitted, continuing to ruin his piece of black bread.

            “It’ll be fine!” Sasha K reassured him, giving him a lad slap on the back, which turned into a bit of a bro-hug, which turned into a bit of a romantic hug. Sasha B ended up burying his head into his fighter’s shoulder, not giving a shit if everyone else in the mess hall noticed.

            “Will it, really? I’ve never done anything like this before!”

            “You are an amazing nav, Euryalus. Remember how good we did yesterday? We shot the hell out of so many ships! Tonight will be no different.”

            “It’s going to be hand-to-hand combat! I am a _weed_!”  
            Sasha K could not conceal his laughter at that.

            “I have seen you— _all_ of you— and I can say that you are totally _not_ a weed.”

            Sasha B blushed at this slight innuendo, remembering all the hot sex they’d been having.

            Suddenly, Cain loomed over them.

            “Could you lovebirds please kindly piss off? Me and my nav have a few things to take care of,” he ordered.

            “You’re gonna fuck him, aren’t you?” Sasha B retorted, his sassy self taking over.

            “What’s it to you? You of all people can hardly say it’s shameful to be fucked by me!”

            Sasha B gave him a lethal death-glare. He mouthed “do not say _anything_ ” and mimed slitting his throat.

            “Come on, kids. I’m sure you want to have sex in a far more comfortable environment,” Cain said, grabbing Sasha K by his unitard and Sasha B by his collar. He pulled them to their feet and sent them on their way, incurring many protests.

            “Are you serious about this?” Sasha the Soldier asked. “Having sex in the mess hall? That’s so unhygienic!”

            “Don’t care. It’s hot. I want to destroy your ass before we shoot up this Swamp place.”

            Cain did not even bother with lube this time. He spat on his penis, got it hard, then stabbed it into Sasha the Soldier’s tight asshole. It was a world of pain, and tears began to fall from his eyes, but Cain was seriously loving this. He thrust and thrust, his ass cheeks wobbling (he’d been letting himself go a bit, eating far too much cake) to the rhythm.

            “Please can we use some lube?” Sasha asked through gritted teeth.

            “Shut up,” Cain barked, increasing the speed of his anal penetration.

            The table they were on was squeaking and bowing under their combined weight, and just as Cain was reaching climax, it gave out. They crashed to the floor, Cain’s dick suddenly ripping out of Sasha the Soldier’s ass. There was an actual tearing sound, and Sasha yelped in pain. Blood began to pour like diarrhoea out of his ass, and he clenched his cheeks to attempt to stop the flow.

            “Oh my Lord! What have you done?” he shrieked between rivers of swears.

            “Bollocks. This has never happened before. Let me fix you up…”

            Cain got out his pocket medical kit and stuffed some cotton balls into Sasha the Soldier’s ass. He fixed them there with shitloads of bandage and medical tape, meaning that he found it incredibly difficult to walk.

            “Maybe this would be better seen to by _an actual medical attendant_ ,” Sasha the Soldier suggested, biting his lip to stop himself from crying in pain.

            “Splendid idea, whore. Let’s go.”


	65. Chapter 65

_Chapter the Sixty-Fifth_

Seryozha knocked on the door of Deimos’ dorm. For a moment, his stomach turned in horror as he realised that Deimos could actually open it, but relaxed when he remembered that Yura said he was out for the afternoon, training with Cain.

            “Apollo! I didn’t think you would come!” Yura exclaimed, as soon as he’d opened the door. He leapt into his arms and gave him a very romantic movie type of hug. He dragged him inside, and they sat on Yura’s bunk to chat.

            “So, yeah… Good luck,” Seryozha said.

            “I’ll fucking need it. Holy shit. I’m crap at hand-to-hand combat; all I can do is navigate.”

            “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Basic Training at pilot school is enough to get by with.”

            Yura scoffed at this. “I went to a navigator school. They never taught us about this shit.”

            “Ah, yes! You’re the St Petersburg navigator! There’s always one…”

            “What do you mean by that?” Yura asked, still light-hearted, but quite curious and SO ready to defend his hometown (he was a patriotic man at heart).

            “I mean that on every mission there’s a navigator from the St Petersburg School of Navigation. They’re always the best.” He took a very deliberate pause. “At everything.”

            Yura’s eyes widened, and he looked altogether very shocked.

            “Oh, really?” he said, injecting the right amount of innocence and seductiveness into his voice.

            “Well, at least, I think so,” Seryozha replied, moving himself to an intimate level of closeness. “You’ll have to prove it to me though…”

            Yura got the hint, and they commenced to make out.

            After a while, there was a knock on the door.

            “Phobos? I forgot my key card, can you let me in?” Deimos said from outside.

            Yura and Seryozha broke away quickly, and Yura shooed Seryozha away, mouthing “GET OUT OF HERE NOW!”. Seryozha leapt up and rushed into the bathroom, whilst Yura got up to open the door for Deimos.

            Seryozha crept into the shower and closed the door. He then heard the following sickening exchange coming from the bedroom.

            “Hey, babe, you alright?” Deimos asked.

            “Yeah, I’m alright, just nervous about tonight. You know.”

            “Don’t worry about it! You’ll be perfect. I know you will.”

            “In hand-to-hand combat, though?”

            “Oh, yes. I’ve seen what you can do with your body, and you are very talented…”

            Seryozha began to fume. He clenched his fists and wished he could leap out of the bathroom and beat Deimos into the afterlife. What the fuck was that slimy little fighter saying?

            “Talented, eh? Well, I have had a lot of experience…” Yura said, his voice so seductive that even Seryozha, from the shower, got aroused.

            “Practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” Deimos concurred.

            “And I could always do with a little more practice…”

            Their conversation ceased at this point, and Seryozha fought to swallow the bile that was rising up in his throat.

            _I am going to KILL YOU, Deimos. I will slit your throat, rip out your organs, and then throw them at Cain’s face. Just you wait._

Seryozha grumbled to himself, making actual, audible noises. He was close to punching a wall, but then he heard the bathroom door open.

            _Fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, holy fuck._

He peered through the translucent, matt-covered glass of the shower, and saw Deimos stripping off. Swallowing a baby-puke at the sight of his dick, Seryozha pressed himself into the wall to hopefully try and make himself a bit less obvious. But when Deimos opened the shower door, he damn well saw Seryozha standing there.

            “OH MY GOD! _APOLLO! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET OUT!_ ”

            Deimos swung a fist at him, but Seryozha dodged and incapacitated the slimy fighter by kneeing him in the balls. He dropped to the floor, wailing in agony, then dashed out of the dorm without even saying goodbye to Yura. 


	66. Chapter 66

_Chapter the Sixty-Sixth_

Some time before Zero Hour (the time when they were to take off and complete the mission), Sasha & Sasha hopped into their starfighter to do some final repairs. Their ship had been pretty fucked up by the last fight, and this was the only time they had to fix whatever was broken.

            Luckily for them, there was not too much that needed doing. A few of the things in the engine were a bit dodgy, and there were a few odd bits of broken screen here and there inside, but other than that it was alright. That was a surprise to them both, and they found themselves with rather more time on their hands than they expected.

            Sasha K plonked down on his chair, spinning around in it absentmindedly. Sasha B was in front of him, leaning against the freshly-fixed display screens. They looked at each other, shared a very boyfriendy look, then started to chat.

            “Looking forward the mission?” Sasha K asked, his face at an angle which really showed off his _sexy as fuck_ nose ring (and Brankovic got a little excited at that).

            “Don’t even talk to me about that, I am fucking _shitting_ myself,” he replied, trying to remain light-hearted on the outside, while dying on the inside.

            “So your thoughts haven’t changed since lunch?”

            “Oh no. No no no. They have gotten so much worse. I realised that there is a chance of us _dying_.”

            “But there is with everything! That’s why people say to live while you’re still here or whatever.”

            Sasha B, his first language not being English, did not understand the subtle nuances connected with this use of the word ‘live’, so asked Sasha K what the hell he meant.

            “It’s like, you have to enjoy yourself while you’re still here. Do all the things you wanna do, you know? Seek out and experience all your pleasures.”

            “Your… pleasures?”

            “I didn’t mean it in that way!” Sasha K exclaimed. “Although—” and for this he adopted a more sultry tone— “one _could_ mean it in that way…”

            “And do you mean it in that way?” Sasha B asked, reciprocating the suggestive tone of voice.

            “Of course I mean it in that way…”

            He took his nav by the waist and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Sasha B ended up sitting in his lap on the chair, his arms around his shoulders and their lips locked together like it was the end of the world.

            “Let me be on top this time…” Sasha B suggested, his voice a very seductive whisper. He began to pull down the zipper of Sasha K’s unitard.

            “Not so fast!” Sasha K replied, laughing in a breathy/aroused way, whilst staying Sasha B’s hand by placing his own (very yaoi-like) hand on top of his.

            “What, you think I’m not hard enough to take control?” he teased. “Or are you just scared of how well I’ll dominate you?”

            Sasha K got so horny at those words that a submissive-sounding, shaky breath escaped his lips. His nav detected his demeanour, and smiled cheekily through sexual neck-kisses. Sasha K was getting seriously aroused now, and hoped that Brankovic would cut to the chase and just fuck him already.

            But young Brankovic had other ideas. He teased his fighter for what seemed like an eternity, touching him in all the most erogenous zones, getting so close to the goods but never going all the way. It was masterful foreplay, and Sasha K probably could have orgasmed on just that.

            However, he did not.

            “Get on the ground, Nisus,” Sasha B ordered, giving him an erotic and super sexy stare, running his hand through his hair in such a way that Sasha K actually got _really_ turned-on. For in this lighting and atmosphere, Sasha Brankovic looked maddeningly seductive. He could have done anything and it still would have looked hot.

            Sasha K obeyed his nav’s orders without question, lying on his front and arching his back like a born rent boy. Sasha B grinned at this wonderful sight, at the same time quite nervous inside for what he was about to do. Honestly, he’d never done this before. He hoped he wouldn’t fuck up too bad.

            Swiping some lube from the starfighter’s ‘emergency’ kit (which just consisted of sex toys and a few actual survival items), Sasha B slathered some onto everywhere that was necessary, then slowly and carefully eased his dick in.

            Sasha K immediately clenched, biting his lip hard as he experienced the first taste of pleasure. It was such an intense feeling, and he wanted to savour every moment of it. There was a slight ache or pain— but a _good_ ache or pain— as his ass stretched to accommodate Sasha B’s enviable girth, then the delicious pleasure of his deep thrusting, then the sudden shock of withdrawal. He found himself gasping like some kind of thirsty bitch, every time Sasha B completed a thrust.

            Up above, Brankovic literally had his mouth wide open, so surprised at what he was doing. He kept thrusting, finding this coming naturally to him, but still completely shocked that he was actually _fucking_ someone! This was something he never thought would happen! Normally, he was a submissive through and through, but today he’d found this hidden top that was ready to dominate. He actually loved it. And by God, so did Sasha Krayevsky.

            “I’m about to… ah… about to…” he moaned, his lip now bleeding from biting it so much.

            “Let me help you with that…” Sasha B replied, his voice a low, husky whisper, his lips millimetres from Sasha K’s ear.

            He adjusted their position a little, so Sasha K was almost on his knees, then reached round and started to give him a handjob. That pushed him so close to the edge that he pretty much melted on the spot, his head falling back onto Sasha B’s shoulder in the throes of pleasure. It was the perfect time for neck-kissing, and thus it happened.

            And then, bam! Sasha K came like the Trevi Fountain. It went all over the floor of the starfighter, and started dripping down Sasha B’s hand. He was too busy having an orgasm to notice, and blew his load inside his fighter’s ass.

            He withdrew and wiped the cum away with his other hand, then sat back cross-legged to receive Sasha K’s glowing, post-sex form. They embraced for a while, Sasha B stroking his fighter’s hair, while Sasha K clasped his nav’s free hand like he would never let go.

“I am so ready for the mission right now, Sasha,” Sasha K said, slapping a hand over his mouth because he had just let slip his navigator’s real name. Sasha B stopped his hair-stroking immediately, with an incredulous look on his sexy face.

“How the hell do you know my name?” he asked, more shocked than angry or anything else.

“First time we ever fought in our starfighter together, the computer asked for your name. You said ‘Sasha’ instead of your task name. I’ve known this whole time.”

“You’re not supposed to know that!” he exclaimed, eyes rather wide.

“But surely you’d want me to scream your _real_ name out next time we fuck?” he replied, the sultry tone of voice making a comeback.

“Who says I’m ever going to give you the pleasure of being fucked again, eh?” Sasha B said quietly in his ear. The softness of the breath that Sasha K felt down his neck made him shiver and gasp (again, like a whore).

            “You’ve gotta wait until after the mission for that!” he continued. “Like… a parting gift.”

            Sasha K abruptly turned around and stared his nav in the eye, looking very distressed.

            “After the mission is over, I’m never going to see you again,” he stated, his tone of voice betraying the devastation he was feeling inside.

            Sasha B stopped in his tracks, breaking the gaze for a second to reflect on this. His plump and rosy lips (Sasha K’s words, not mine) parted slightly in suppressed horror, and his eyes started to shine with unshed tears. He realised the gravity of this revelation.

            “Oh my God, you’re right…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He paused, trying not to let his voice shake and give away his inner grief. “We could get assigned to the same mission another time, maybe?”

            “Euryalus— Sasha— whatever— the mission we’re on right now is the last one. The Swamp has been plaguing us for years, and now our technology is good enough to destroy it. After this, there’s nothing. Our ships simply aren’t good enough to explore any further. After this, we’ve conquered all of outer space that we can. It will be years before the tech’s advanced enough to go out on another big mission. This is it.”

            “But, maybe… maybe we’ll be posted to some patrol ship somewhere… together… I don’t know…” he said, returning to his usual worried, submissive self.

            “We got here on that program for gifted teenagers. We haven’t finished at training school: we have two years left!”

            “And you’ll have forgotten about me by then…?”

            Sasha K was deeply wounded by this thought, and leapt into his nav’s arms for an embrace he would not readily break out of.

            “Of course not! I’ll never forget you!”

            Sasha B was touched by these words, and submitted to the embrace wholly and completely. He sighed, screwing his eyes shut and cursing himself for being such a pussy and welling up.

            “Maybe, by some miracle, we live near each other,” Sasha K suggested. “and you just have a very weird accent.”

            “I have a normal accent!” he protested, glad of this moment of humour. “I’m from the New Republic of Macedonia, and we have the _best_ accents ever.”

            Sasha K smiled, but his discomfort was obvious. “Yeah… I’m not from the New Republic of Macedonia…”

            “Fuck… Well, we’ll have to keep in touch. I’m not ready to say goodbye to _this_ —” with that he tipped Sasha K’s chin slightly up with his hand, looking intently at his beautiful face— “so soon.”

            They were both feigning calmness, not reacting to the news too extremely, but inside they were crushed. The thought of leaving each other forever was just awful. They’d got so close over this mission, and fuck, this was Sasha B’s first time falling in love. And yeah, you heard me right. Oh, he had fallen pretty damn hard. He hadn’t actually said it yet, because you know him: he is a shy little bugger if ever there was one. He was kind of waiting for his fighter to say it first. Today was his lucky day.

            “Well, whatever happens,” Sasha K began, taking both of his hands as if what he was about to say was very important. “you should know that I love you very much.”

            Sasha B’s heart leapt into his throat, and he kind of felt like he was going to figuratively puke it up. He went into panic mode, fretting about what to say in reply, and how to say it in a way that came off as sincere and grateful and gods damn in _love_ as he was feeling inside.

            “I love you too… very much…” he replied, his overwhelmedness almost cutting off his throat and preventing any words from coming out.

            They threw themselves into each other’s arms, getting the most out of this hug than all the other ones they’d had combined. Both of them were holding back Noah’s Ark levels of tear-floods, and when they broke away, Sasha B kind of lost composure.

            “Oh, shit…” he hissed through sobs, as his fighter rushed to hug him again. “Oh my God… I’m so stupid…”

            “You’re not stupid, Sasha, you’re wonderful…” he replied, not really concentrating on his words, since the floodgates of his eyes were about to burst open. “Don’t you forget that, kay? You’re wonderful, and I’ll never forget you, and we will see each other again somehow… alright? D’you believe me?”

            “Uh huh…” Sasha B said, his lip quivering and tears running freely down.

            Sasha K sat back on his heels and wiped his nav’s tears away with a slender and fabulous thumb. Sasha B tilted his head to the general whereabouts of Sasha K’s hand, placing his own on top as if asking ‘just stroke my fucking cheek now and make this fluff reach perfection plz’. The fighter did just that, just as there was a knock on the starfighter’s windshield.

            “Wake up, loverboys! Zero Hour is almost upon us!” Cain shouted through the glass, his face appearing before them. “Get your asses to briefing!”

            “Fuck off, Cain!” Sasha K bellowed back to him, his voice taking on a harsh, sharp-edged tone that was kind of sexy.

            Cain stalked off, and Sasha & Sasha stood up. They were still ever-so slightly NAKED, in case you’ve forgotten, so they hurriedly dressed and made for the door of the starfighter. Sasha B sneakily clasped his fighter’s hand and intertwined their fingers in a very adorable way. Sasha K noticed and gave him a cheeky, amused look. His nav shrugged like ‘whatcha gonna do about it?’, so Sasha K let him continue. They walked all the way to the briefing room holding hands, providing a most wonderful scene for all those who shipped them. Which was everyone. Even Cain.


	67. Chapter 67

_Chapter the Sixty-Seventh_

“Now, gentlemen, it is time to say goodbye,” Milankovic stated. “Aside from some minor issues like most of the officers dying, I believe this mission has been a success so far. Now we are just minutes away from the final stage, and I could not be more proud.

            “You men have done great things, and I can’t believe that we are so close to eradicating the Ogre threat once and for all. I remember when I had just graduated from pilot school, back when the Colonies were independent, and the first ever mission to the Swamp was launched. I was fortunate enough not to be on that ship, since everyone on it was tragically killed by the enemy’s superior technology. But now, over thirty years later, it is almost the end. Once the Swamp is destroyed, we can return to our prosperous planet for a life of peace and harmony. Who would have thought that we humans could conquer the heavens? Ha! But we have done it! After this, half of the Milky Way will have been calmed by our guiding hand. And this was all down to men like you. _Heroes_ like you.”

            Cain did not need any more fuel for his ego-fire, but this was like someone had given him an entire tree. He puffed his chest out and put his hands on his hips, thinking that all the praise was for him. Clearly, he had singlehandedly quelled the Ogre threat for over thirty years, so he deserved all the medals, all the rewards, _all_ the love from General Toszeimav* (the top of the top of the Space Navy that these fighters and navs worked for).

            _*pronounced:_ To _-shai-_ mav _, by the way_

            “Cain, stop trying to look like Mr Muscle. Stand normally,” Milankovic snapped. Cain harrumphed and dropped his shoulders.

            “Now, men, the time is upon us. Are you all ready? Have you got the right kit? Gone to the toilet? Prepared your starfighters?”

            “YES, SIR!” they all barked.

            “Excellent. Now off you go. Good luck, and Godspeed!”

            They all saluted, and marched to the docking station in perfect formation. When they got there, Keeler and Encke were waiting.

            “In you get, men!” Encke ordered, ushering them all in the direction of their starfighters.

            “Aren’t you joining us, sir?” Yura asked, kind of curious and kind of pissed because he knew the answer and _why the fuck were they being that lazy, God_?

            “No, Phobos,” Keeler replied curtly. “We are the Lead Fighter and Navigator. Our lives are far too important to be risked on this mission. We are far more important than you.”

            “Fuck you, Keeler, you effeminate whore. I bet you’ve got like ten vaginas hidden under that gross-ass uniform of yours. I hope Encke fucks you so hard that you have a heart attack and die. Goodnight.”

            Yura punched the Lead Nav with the most force he could muster— which was a lot— and then scarpered as Keeler fell to the ground, unconscious, both nose and dignity totally shattered. As he ran to his starfighter, everyone patted him on the back and congratulated him for doing the thing that everyone had wanted to do since the beginning of this mission.

            Encke tried to grab Yura and beat his pretty face to a pulp, but Commander Milankovic, who had materialised behind him, forbade this violent act. Yura leapt into his starfighter and strapped himself in, so he was safe.

            “On my order, men, go,” he said through the headset comms system. “Starfighter _Ruka_ , are you ready?”

            “Yes, sir!” Cain and Sasha the Soldier replied.

            “Starfighter _Chyerdak_ , are you ready?”

            “Yes, sir!” Yura and Deimos replied.

            “Starfighter _Sluzhaschiy_ , are you ready?”

            “Yes, sir!” Carlo and Seryozha replied.

            “And Starfighter _Pyatdesyat_ , are you ready?”

            There was silence over the line.

            “STARFIGHTER _PYATDESYAT_? ARE YOU READY?”

            “... oh, bollocks, Nisus, he means us…” Sasha B said, loud enough that Milankovic only just heard it. “Sir, we are Starfighter _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_. Starfighter _Pyatdesyat_ was Hadrian and Watson’s.”

            “Well, fuck me right in the pussy. I am very sorry, boys. Starfighter _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_ , are you ready?”

            “Yes, sir!” Sasha & Sasha replied.

            “Then we are sorted, men. GO, GO, GO!”

            All the starfighters powered up and one by one zoomed out of the docking station. Milankovic waved them off, a tear in his eye.

            “Is Keeler on this frequency?” Yura asked over the starfighters’ communications line.

            “Yes, I am,” Keeler replied, barely keeping his voice steady from fury.

            “Suka blyad…” Yura hissed, covering the mic with his hand. “Not that bitch again.”

            “I heard that, Phobos,” Keeler noted. “I _do_ understand Russian, you know.”

            _Fuck_ , Yura thought, dismayed that his plan to bitch about Keeler in Russian had been foiled.

            “Anyway, girls!” Cain interrupted. “Plan of action! Our ship and the _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_ will swing round the left flank, keeping good distance—”

            “Who said you were the one making the plan?” Encke retorted, joining the conversation over the comms frequency. “Commander Milankovic has already given us one. _Chyerdak,_ when we reach the Swamp, you fly underneath and then enter from behind—”

            There was childish sniggering over the line.

            “SHUT UP!” Encke hollered. “What I mean is, _Chyerdak_ , you take the northern corner. _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_ , the eastern. _Sluzhaschiy,_ the southern. _Ruka_ , the western. If we penetrate from all four corners, they will be overwhelmed and unable to deal with us. Our spies have said that the Swamp is sparsely staffed, so we can overcome their soldiers easily. We must kill the leader, then fly out and destroy the stronghold from a distance. Got it?”

            “Yes, sir!” all the pairings replied.

            “Good. Now get on with it, and no chatting over comms. We can hear everything.”

            Encke disappeared, leaving the line eerily quiet. After almost a minute of complete silence, Cain tried to make small talk.

            “So, who’s excited?”

            “I SAID NO TALKING!” Encke screamed, deafening them all temporarily.

            Cain did not say another word.

            Soon, the looming mass of the Swamp came into view. Everyone’s adrenaline levels started rapidly rising, as the threat of being spotted was ever-so real. Milankovic had assured them that a scouting party of auxiliary fighters had gone ahead and destroyed all means of being detected by enemy systems, but they did not put all their faith in that. The leader of the Swamp was probably wily and cunning; they’d have a plan.

            “Now, split up!” Keeler ordered.

            The starfighters did so, each and every man praying to whatever power they believed (or didn’t believe) in. Their headsets went out of range, snatching away even the comforting buzzing of the line. They were truly alone now, just one ship facing an entire quarter of a massive enemy stronghold. Were they really ready?


	68. Chapter 68

_Chapter the Sixty-Eighth_

The western wing of the Swamp was a run-down and disgusting area, even from the outside. Small pieces of it were flaking off and floating about into space, and everything had a general air of unkemptness and foreboding. Sasha the Soldier gulped, since he was scared in a cliché way.

            “I see a small entrance at 2 o’ clock,” Cain said, sounding uncharacteristically mellow. “Make for there, please.”

            Sasha the Soldier did a double-take, as Cain had never used his manners before. This was a ground-breaking event!

            He steered towards the tiny entrance, then parked the starfighter in a concealed position just outside. Cain and Sasha got out of their seats and donned their spacesuits, which were also made for combat purposes. There were concealed guns, bombs and grenades in every nook and cranny, to destroy enemies left and right. Sasha the Soldier’s was a little big for him, and the concealed knives at the end of the sleeves kept cutting his hands by accident. His helmet was rather heavy, and the goggles inside kept slipping off his nose, meaning he had to kind of flick his head backwards to get them to go up a little bit. He looked like a right idiot, but Cain— dare he say it— found it quite cute.

            “You first, nav. You know the way.”

            “I don’t! I’ve never been here before, but… alright…” Sasha replied, blushing, and hoping that it was hidden behind the tinted glass of his space helmet.

            They went to the entrance of the starfighter that included a mini airlock, and one by one exited. Sasha the Soldier held for dear life onto the rail on the exterior of the ship, then when Cain got out safely, he pushed himself towards the entrance. This being space, he floated easily and managed to open the airlock from the outside, with his extensive lock-picking kit.

            Suddenly, a buzz and crackle was heard in their headsets.

            “Fuck yes, we’re in range again!” Cain cried. “Any starfighters, report!”

            “Starfighter _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_ reporting.” Sasha B’s voice sounded far more formal and military than it ever had before. It kind of seemed lower and more masculine as well. Probably all the fear and adrenaline.

            “Ah, good evening, Euryalus! How are you?”

            “Rather busy,” Sasha K cut in. “So if you would care to be quiet…”

            “Alright, alright. Have it your way this time, fag.”

            “ _NOW DON’T YOU FUCKING—_ ”

            “I thought we said no talking, eh?” Cain taunted.

            Sasha K turned away from the mic (as much as he was able in a helmet) and uttered a gorgeous stream of swear words. Then there was silence, and Cain decided not to disturb it.

            “Where the fuck are we?” Cain asked, taking off his space helmet and getting a breath of delicious Swamp air.

            “No idea,” Sasha the Soldier replied, doing likewise. “Looks pretty decrepit if you ask me.”

            “But no one asked you, did they?”

            Sasha the Soldier had time for his expression to go from pissed to downcast, before Cain punched him amiably on the arm and laughed.

            “You’re alright, mate. I quite like you.”

            “This isn’t really the time for bromance, Cain. As much as I want to, no.”

            They crouched into a sneaking position and started advancing down the long, dank corridor they had now found themselves in. About halfway down, they began to catch the sound of screaming and wailing. Sasha the Soldier halted immediately. Cain beckoned him continue, so they crept along even quieter than before.

            At the end of the corridor was a balcony, with a grimy metal railing at the end that stopped them from falling onto the storey below. They peered over, careful not to stick their heads too high (as the lower floor was only twenty or so metres below them), and surveyed the scene.

            It looked to be the brig. Stagnant water dripped from the ceiling, and a smell of rotten flesh provided a visceral backdrop to the spectacle of torture below them. Dozens of ancient-looking metal cages were lined up in neat rows, each one containing a grubby, emaciated prisoner. Huge, hulking jailers wearing terrifying metal plate armour strode up and down, occasionally shooting one of the inhabitants of the cages with some kind of hybrid tranq gun. From time to time someone would be dragged out and hauled along to a sealed and darkened room, the interior of which was hidden to our onlookers. The entire sad landscape was covered in a permanent layer of blood, and desperate screams and cries were a constant background noise.

            “Jesus Christ… We’ve got to get past this!” Cain whispered.

            “Let’s do it. We’ll switch to our personal frequency and go one at a time. The first one is guided by the second, and the second is hopefully guided by the first. Don’t shoot unless they shoot you. And don’t make a sound.”  
            “That’s actually a really good plan, kid. I didn’t think navs were any good at strategy!”

            “I took a course in it at training school. A luxury you fighters never get to experience.”

            “Wait, you get to do extra courses?” Cain asked, in total disbelief.

            “Yeah; once you reach the third year you have a choice of taking an extra one-year course to get a certificate. You can do it in the fourth year, and all the years after. There are so many to choose from too: medical, starfighter engineering, weapons development— Wait. This is completely beside the point. Let’s get a move on!”

            “Tell me more about this later, though. That is fascinating.” Cain was genuinely interested in this.

            Sasha the Soldier located a staircase at one end of the balcony, and commando-crawled towards it. As silently as he could, he went down the stairs. A small knife slipped off a loop on his suit, and he watched with mouth agape as it tumbled down. Thankfully, it landed in a prisoner’s succulent shoulder flesh, so did not make a noise. Sasha exhaled deeply, then continued.

            After reaching the bottom of the stairs, he switched his headset to his and Cain’s personal frequency, and whispered a request for some instructions.

            “You’re safe for now. Keep walking straight ahead, and stop when you reach the end of that row of cages. Don’t worry about the prisoners kicking up a fuss— they look pretty conked-out.”

            “Roger Wilco*,” Sasha the Soldier said as quietly as possible.

            _*this meaning ‘got it, will comply’ in military speak. But you knew that already, of course._

            Shielding his face with the suit’s inbuilt hood, he withdrew a small gun and tip-toed down the row of cages. A prisoner or two saw him and gazed in wonder at this new figure, but did not say anything. For they all looked to be in an _awful_ state.

            Each and every one seemed to be in a different kind of agony. For example, one of them had a poisonous tree growing out of the chair he was tied to, the branches and leaves sprouting inside his anus. Another was hanging by the eyelids from the ceiling of the cage. Sasha the Soldier held down bile at these grotesque sights, and continued on.

            Upon reaching the end of the row, he looked around. Cain’s voice guided him through his next moves, and soon he had cleared the brig. He stood in the shadows next to the exit door, and told Cain he could go.

            He took a run-up and leapt over the balcony. He landed on top of a cage, his feet almost slipping through the bars, and gripped on for dear life.

            “CAIN!” Sasha the Soldier shrieked, honestly fearing for his life. Sadly, this alerted his presence to the jailers, who all rushed on him. Cain parkoured over the top of the cages and hoisted himself up onto the balcony on the opposite side, spotting an open and unguarded door. The last he heard of Sasha the Soldier was a choked cry, before he scarpered and made for the main control room.

            “ _CAIN_!” he repeated, as a very hefty jailer grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back.

            “Shut up, angel-face. We don’t want to have to do it for you.”

            They all smiled in exactly the same creepy way, then one of them drew out a switchblade and sliced his throat. Dropping his body onto the ground, they parted and returned to their previous engagements. Blood sprayed out of Sasha’s neck like a garden sprinkler, and he died almost instantly.


	69. Chapter 69

_Chapter the Sixty-Ninth_

“Really nice interior decor here,” Sasha K noted, as they strolled down a bright and spacious hallway.

            “It’s so much better than our ship. That place is so dark and old-fashioned!”

            “This is avant-garde shit right here. Look at this minimalist architecture! So unlike a stereotypical enemy ship.”

            “Kind of reminds me of my training school in Skopje,” Sasha B mused.

            “I went there on a trip once! Fuck, it was beautiful. Reminds me of how much I wanted to be an architect rather than a fighter.”

            “Why didn’t you become an architect then?”

            “Conscription came in. Just in my city, for some reason. They conscripted all 16+ to the Space Navy, and under-16s to the training schools. So stupid.”

            “Well, you never would have met me if not for that!”

            “Eh, that’s true. I don’t know how I could have lived without meeting you!”

            Sasha K wandered over and put his arms around Sasha B’s shoulders.

            “We’re on an important mission! Don’t— ah— don’t—”

            Sasha K had moved on to showering him with romantic kisses, and it was not like our young navigator to refuse those. They backed up into a wall and had a bit of a moment, which was ruined by Dmitry Medvedev appearing.

            “My goodness! What is this?” he wondered to himself, walking closer to the boys.

            Noticing the new arrival, they broke away. There was a long, lingering look shared between the three of them, then Dmitry snapped back into reality and realised that they were intruders.

            “MASTER PUTIN! MASTER PUTIN!” he screamed, hurtling down the hallway at lightning speed.

            “Bollocks,” Sasha K stated. “Big, fat, sweaty bollocks. This was not meant to happen.”

            “What the fuck do we do?” Sasha B asked, in an increasingly panicked state.

            “Run!”

            “Where?!”

            “Anywhere! We’ve been spotted now! We have to hide!”

            They turned and dashed in the opposite direction to Medvedev, trying to find somewhere where they wouldn’t be seen.

~

Shrek was busy playing with Putin’s penis when Dmitry entered the control room.

            “Master Putin,” he said, bowing in obeisance.

            Shrek paused his handjob and looked at his sub-subordinate, grimacing at the sight of such a lowly life form. Putin raised his eyebrow at the sight of Dmitry in front of him, but bade him speak.

            “I have some disturbing news,” Dmitry confessed.

            “What is it, cur? Spit it out! I don’t have all day to listen to your umming and ahhing!” Shrek bellowed, blasting Medvedev with a cloud of his sweet breath.

            “Our stronghold has been penetrated!” he cried. “Penetrated!”  
            Shrek dropped Putin’s penis as his mouth widened in horror.

            “Is what you are saying true, Medvedev?” he asked.

            “Yes, Supreme Master. Every word.”

            “By whom?”

            “The humans from Earth. This time it was two rather attractive young boys.”

            Shrek smiled contentedly. “At least those swines give me something more to my taste. I request that they are found and brought to me immediately.”


	70. Chapter 70

_Chapter the Seventieth_

Shrek jabbed a button with his almighty finger.

            “All units, execute Total Search Protocol! I want every part of this ship _scoured_! If you find any foreign beings, EXECUTE THEM INSTANTLY! Unless they are two young boys— Medvedev, what do they look like? Ah, I see— unless they are two young boys, one blond and one with a nose ring. What was that, Medvedev?— oh, very good-looking, nice asses, lithe figures— right, Medvedev, that’s enough. _Do you understand me, units_? Seek and destroy the invaders, but the boys must be brought to me!”

            From their barracks on each level, hundreds of Shrek’s soldiers poured out and began to hunt through the ship. They were all terrifying ogres, covered in scars and spikes, absolutely bristling with weapons. But instead of looking like primitive, barbaric brutes, they were all in slick and technologically-advanced armour, which could rival even the uniforms of the fighters and navigators. It was terrifying to see that the enemy was so much better than the humans in terms of armaments. Almost made one think that the four pairs infiltrating the ship had no chance of surviving.

            Carlo and Seryozha were on the highest storey. Somehow they had managed to stumble up there without being detected, and were trying to locate the position of the main control room. So far, they’d come up with nothing, and were rather terrified that the floor was completely empty.

            A chill danced down Seryozha’s spine, and he furrowed his brow in concern.

            “Did you feel that?” he asked, breaking the otherwise eerie silence. Carlo started, whipping round to look at him.

            “God, you fucking scared me there. Did I feel what?”

            “It’s kind of cold in here. Is that just me?”

            “Yeah, it is just you. I’m fine. Too hot, if anyth—”

            A faint bang cut his words short. They both snapped into defensive stances, drawing out their most fearsome guns. But after that sound, there was nothing. The silence was so complete that it seemed to fill their ears with static. However, that turned out to only be the noise of their headsets, but when they turned them off they were startled by the _real_ silence around them.

            There was another noise, more prolonged this time. Seryozha put a finger to his lips and strained to hear it, but it never rose above a barely audible volume. He began to creep down the corridor, finding the crisp and clinical white walls to be more terrifying than any dark, haunted alleyway. Carlo stayed back, unsure if he wanted to follow.

            “Come on,” Seryozha whispered, beckoning him.

            “We’re not going _towards_ the noise, are we?” he spluttered.

            “We’ve already been the other way! We might as well; there might be something there.”

            Carlo scuttled after him, taking up a position just behind Seryozha’s left shoulder. He frequently looked behind as they walked, just in case anyone or anything appeared.

            The navigator then felt the chill that Seryozha had felt earlier.

            “What the fuck was that?” he hissed, his eyes darting all around. “Fucking chill…”

            “See?”

            “Yes. Now shh.”

            They continued down the corridor, eventually reaching a part so dizzying in its whiteness that Seryozha got incredibly disoriented. The corridor was pretty much a perfect tunnel, with hidden lights causing absolutely no shadows, or variations in brightness. It was so long that it vanished at the horizon of the pair’s view, meaning that all they could see in front of them was endless white.

            “This is really weird…” Carlo noted.

            “Shut up. Keep going.”  
            They tried not to let themselves get any more confused, but as they let their minds drift and their legs go on autopilot, they completely lost track of where they were. Carlo returned to reality first, and found an utterly white scene spread out in all directions. A little baby-puke rose up in his throat, and he could not focus his eyes on anything.

            “Woah, where are we?”

            Seryozha stopped and turned to him.

            “We’re in the same place that we just were. See?” He gestured around all 360 degrees, and they both had a quick reconnaissance of their surroundings. When they returned to face each other, they had a moment of awful realisation at exactly the same time.

            “Which way were we heading?” Seryozha asked, becoming quite unsettled.

            “I… I don’t know. Let’s go… let’s go north. North always works.”  
            He got out his compass and tried to read it, but the needle was spinning uncontrollably so he could not. You see, the walls of the tunnel were made of iron that was magnetised to South, so the compass could not get a reading through all the interference. Thankfully, the pair’s kit had no iron in it to attract them to the walls, since iron was a very outdated metal for these advanced times. It was quite strange that such a structure was even made of iron, when fibreglass or Aerogel could have easily been used. (Carlo made a mental note of it for the Physics degree that he was in the middle of completing on Earth.)

            Echoing footsteps, growing in volume, reached their ears. They had no idea which direction they were coming from, so span around countless times. They got quite dizzy, and the horrible white corridor did not help them in holding down their chunder.

            As they got louder, the footsteps seemed to be coming from everywhere. Adrenaline pumping and minds getting into combat mode, the two men looked around in vain for some kind of visual aid as to the source of the sound. They were so frantic that they ended up bumping into each other and smacking foreheads. Both of them crumpled to the ground, swearing and trying not to be undone by such a small amount of pain.

            They noticed the soldiers far too late, and by the time they did, they had already been shot at. Seryozha, being a more agile and able combatant, leapt to his feet and began firing at them. He managed to kill scores of Shrek’s men, but could not save his poor navigator.

            “Apollo! Help me!” he choked, as he was shot through the stomach by a poorly-aimed bullet.

            “You’re going to die, Antinous! I can’t help you!”

            “Well isn’t that just _so_ comforting?!” he scoffed, trying to staunch the flow of blood at the same time as legging it out of the tunnel. Sadly, he was shot in the head by a laser beam, and collapsed with his head gently smoking. Seryozha did not even turn to watch, but instead focused on dispatching the last of the soldiers.

            Now, Seryozha was a _fabulous_ fighter. And not just in the sense that he fought like the campest little shit that one could ever see— no, he was also incredibly skilled and could take down people twice his size with relative ease. It was all to do with the fact that he knew his weapons inside and out, so could utilise them in many situations. He stabbed them through almost invisible chinks in their armour; he shot them at point blank range; he slit their throats without even looking; by God, he was wonderful to watch. Even though they all had guns, they could not manage to wound or incapacitate him. He was just too fast and agile.

            Once the final soldier fell dead, he collapsed to his knees in utter exhaustion. His chest heaved as he took in gargantuan breaths, and his throat and mouth were bone dry. He swallowed a few times to get some moisture going, then stood up and sheathed his weapons.

            He gave a side-eye to the body of Carlo. His mouth curled into a slight grimace at the sight of his pitiful expression in death, but turned and continued down the corridor.

            Switching on his headset, he played with the frequencies to see if he could catch anything. Thankfully, he managed to get a buzz that showed it was working.

            “Any officers, report,” he said, in a very subdued and quiet voice.

            “Nisus, reporting. What is it?” Sasha K replied, after some seconds of silence.

            “It seems the leader of this place has been alerted to our presence and has deployed troops. Beware.”

            “Oh, we know… It was kind of our fault…” Sasha B cut in.

            “Seriously? My navigator got killed because of you!” he hissed, clenching his fists.

            “Ah, sorry about that…” Sasha K said. “I thought you didn’t like him, anyway?”

            “I don’t. Aha, yeah. I don’t. I don’t care that you got him killed. Actually, I’m quite happy. He was slowing me down. Where are you guys?”

            “Fifth deck, I think,” Sasha K replied. “We’ve almost been spotted by tons of soldiers. It’s getting dangerous; there seem to be hundreds of them.”

            “Well, keep safe, guys. See you later.”

            He switched off his headset and revelled in the sweet silence. Finally, he left the white tunnel, and commenced trying to find the control room of this damned ship.


	71. Chapter 71

_Chapter the Seventy-First_

Somehow, Yura and Deimos had not been spotted by Shrek’s soldiers. It was probably because they’d entered through the stronghold’s waste disposal area, and had been wading through their sewage system for hours. Both of them were knee-deep in shit, and Yura had thrown up quite a few times.

            Up ahead, they spotted a ladder leading up and out of this godforsaken disgusting tunnel of crap.

            “Oh, thank God,” Deimos cried. “We can finally get out of this shithole. This _literal_ shithole.”

            “I really really need to— agh— get out of here,” Yura said, covering his mouth as if he were about to puke again. He attempted in vain to swallow, and ended up turning away and expelling the entire contents of his stomach all over his space/combat-suit.

He began to whimper, using a bit of fairly light brown water to wash it all off. He was beyond caring now, being so dirty, and figured that slightly shit-infused water was better than having chunky vomit all over his body. Deimos felt a wave of nausea overcome him at this sight, and tried with all his might not to chunder.

            They battled through the tide of filth to get to the ladder, and sighed when they were within its reach. Disgusting, grimy metal had never looked so beautiful.

            Deimos went first, grasping the cold rungs and hauling himself up. Yura followed soon after, but stopped abruptly when Deimos swore.

“Fuck. We found the control room.”

“What?!” Yura exclaimed.

“Yeah. It’s there. There’s a massive throne, with a huge green monster sitting in it, and a dude sitting on his dick.”

“A dude sitting on his dick? What the fuck?”

“Yeah… He looks like he’s gonna be ripped in half cos that green guy’s dick is _huge_. This is weird as shit.”

“Think about it this way, Deimos. They are clearly busy, so we can kill them without too much trouble. If you just aim well, you could probably get them from here!”

“I don’t think so. There’s a grille up here and the mesh is really fine. I’d blow it to pieces if I tried to shoot.”

“Well then,” said Yura. “We have to jump in and surprise them.”

“Oh, Christ… That’s going to be difficult. The grille is quite high up. Come up here and have a look.”

Yura clambered up the rest of the ladder, having to kind of spoon Deimos to be able to see what he was showing him. The close contact, and the warmth of Deimos’ body against his own, made Yura get a little hot under the collar. He hoped his penis would not betray this feeling and make things a little awkward. They were about ten metres up, after all.

Yura had a look at the grille in front of them, which was made of an incredibly fine, carbon fibre mesh. If he pressed his face right up against it, he could see the interior of the control room, and was horrified to see that the grille was about seven metres up the wall. If they jumped down there, they would either get hurt, die, or be killed before they could shoot the enemies.

“Just move it, and then shoot through it. Your laser gun would definitely be in range from this distance,” Yura suggested.

“Fabulous idea. Let’s do it.”  
            He took the edges of the grille and tried to wrench it free. It put up a lot of resistance, but came free suddenly and took both of them by surprise. The sharp corner smacked Yura in the face, and he almost fell off the ladder.

They ducked down, in case the two people in the control room had heard the noise of the grille snapping off. After a few seconds, they peered in and were greeted to the sight of the ogre having his dick sucked by the other man.

Deimos whipped out his most powerful laser gun and looked down the sight to get the best aim. He steadied his shaky wrist, preparing to shoot. Endless, tense seconds passed, as Deimos readied himself for this one vital shot. If he fucked this up, their presence would be revealed, and they’d be chased down and killed before you could say ‘bollocks’.

“EAT SHIT, MOTHERFUCKERS!” Cain bellowed, dropping down from the ceiling and pumping the two men’s bodies full of machine gun bullets.

“Shit the bed!” Deimos shrieked, accidentally firing as he’d jumped so violently.

Cain kept screaming and shouting random insults, expending all his ammo in completely mutilating the bodies. Shrek took quite a while to die: it took an entire magazine in his skull before he finally kicked the bucket. He started ripping up Putin’s naked body with his bare hands, so gleeful to have killed the leaders of the enemy force that he was becoming borderline cannibal.

“FUCK YES! I DID IT! I WON! I KILLED THESE MOTHERFUCKERS! I AM _THE GREATEST_!”

“Cain, shut the fuck up!” Yura barked.

He looked around frantically for the source of these harsh words, and when he saw Yura, he gave him a lovely middle finger.

“We were _literally_ about to shoot them!” Yura complained.

“Well tough fucking luck, princess! _I_ shot them!”

“We’re coming down, Cain,” Deimos said, his voice becoming very low and submissive in Cain’s presence.

“About time too, darlings. Let’s get the fuck out and destroy this ship.”

Yura climbed a little down the ladder to give Deimos some room to wriggle through the grille. He did so, falling to the ground but being caught by Cain’s strong and soft arms. Yura followed suit, but Cain didn’t try and catch him. He landed heavily on his front, getting completely winded and almost breaking his nose as he hit the ground.

He got up and composed himself, being helped to his feet by Deimos. Cain gave them a mocking smile at this display of affection, but inside he was secretly miserable because he didn’t have a boyfriend to dote on and protect. That’s all he wanted in life, God. Why couldn’t he just have what he wanted?!


	72. Chapter 72

_Chapter the Seventy-Second_

The three of them turned on their headsets and were greeted to the comforting sound of a static buzz.

“Any of you ladies still alive?” Cain said. “I’ve got Phobos and Deimos here with me. One of you little shits report. You’d better not _all_ be dead.”

“Nisus and Euryalus, reporting,” Sasha B said, sounding incredibly out of breath.

“Apollo, reporting,” Seryozha said, seeming rather disgruntled.

“Lost your nav, then?” Cain asked, after some seconds of silence.

“Yes,” Seryozha replied, in no mood for any of Cain’s bullshit.

“Aww, baby. So sad. That means you’ll have to share your starfighter with me, because one of us has to nav. Since you’re a slut, I think that should be you.”

“Oh fuck off, Cain. I’ll nav, but I’m not a slut. I think you’ll find that’s you.”

“THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE BICKERING LIKE CHILDREN,” Sasha K interrupted, in a very aggressive tone. “Let’s just fly out, form up and shoot this bitch up. Alright?”

“I agree,” Yura put in, incurring an incredulous glance from Cain because they were standing right fucking next to each other.

“Alright. Let’s go then, ladies,” Cain eventually said.

The three of them in the control room made their leisurely way to their respective starfighters, so full of confidence that they were poppin’ caps in passers-by without even a second look. The officers had killed most of Shrek’s soldiers in the previous skirmishes, but there were a few randoms milling about. They, however, were immediately killed by our indomitable crew.

“Where are you, darling Apollo?” Cain asked. “We need to meet so we can go to my starfighter. I can’t wait to see you!” The last bit was so full of sarcasm that Seryozha made an audible growl over comms.

“Deck six, north-west wing, by docking station. Why don’t we go in my starfighter, since I’m already right next to it?”

“Alright, darling. I know how much you love it. Wait there.”  
            The reason that Seryozha didn’t want to meet Cain is because he was just feeling the need to go to the toilet wrack his nether regions. And this was something a little more than a piss. He did not want to disturb it any more than he had to.

Clenching and unclenching his ass cheeks ferociously, he waited for Cain to arrive. Soon, he was there, covered in blood and looking rugged in quite an attractive way. Seryozha’s mind was filled, unbidden, with thoughts of being dominated by him looking like this. He was disgusted at himself for letting himself think these things, but was oddly quite aroused.

“Let’s go then, dear. Time to fly.”

Although Cain used ‘dear’ in a patronising way, Seryozha could not help but detect the tiniest bit of sincerity in his voice. It was a little unsettling, but considering Seryozha’s frame of mind at that moment, it was not entirely unwelcome.

“I don’t know how to nav, by the way,” Seryozha admitted, sitting down in the nav’s chair and strapping himself in.

“It’s pretty self-explanatory. Abel—” his voice broke on that word— “taught me how. It isn’t too hard to get the basics, and that’s all we need to get back. You can do comms for us as well.”

“I’ll ask if anyone’s around, then,” Seryozha said, switching his headset to the starfighter-to-starfighter frequency. He was a little discomforted in the fact that he and Cain seemed to be _tolerating_ each other. This was something that had never happened before. It was a little odd.

“This is Starfighter _Ruka_. Is anyone ready to fly out?” he announced, putting on the militaristic voice that he used when communicating with higher-ranked officers, or giving people orders.

“Starfighter _Chyerdak_ is ready to fly out, sir,” Deimos replied.

Cain tried to suppress a guffaw. “Oh myshonok, that was Apollo. No need to call him ‘sir’! Pahaha, that was priceless…”

“Cain, when we leave the Swamp, we will be within comms range of the ship, so I recommend that you hold your tongue and stop being such a monumental cock,” Seryozha said calmly, in exactly the same tone of voice as a flight attendant reading the safety information.

Everyone else went ‘OHHHHHHHH!’, silencing Cain for quite some time.

“Anyway. Starfighter _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_ , are you ready to fly out?”

“Yes, Apollo,” Sasha B replied. “And may I ask, what will you do with your own starfighter? Are you going to just leave it at the Swamp?”

“Yes. It was fucked up anyway, so I won’t miss it.”

(The repairs he’d done after Deimos and Cain had wreaked havoc on it had not really worked that well in the long run.)

“Can we go, please?” Cain whined.

Seryozha inhaled, then exhaled, very pointedly. “Of course. Let’s fly out, guys.”

They all did so, meeting up at a safe distance from the Swamp. They formed a small line, facing the stronghold, and turned on every single one of their guns.

“Thank Jesus’ beard!” Milankovic cried. “You’re alive! All officers, please report! Who’s still here?”

All the men said their names, and Milankovic whooped. A faint sound of applause was even heard in the background.

“Oh, excellent news! You were out of range for so long— I didn’t know if any of you were still around! Thank God! Time to smack this bitch up! Aim guns, please. On my order… FIRE!”

There was an almighty volley of fire, but it did not just come from our boys. No: some enemy ships with the final remaining crew had followed them, and had opened fire.

“What was that? Report, report!” Milankovic screeched.

“Enemy ships have attacked us, sir… about five of them… We’re fighting them off now, sir…” Deimos said through gritted teeth.

“Jesus Christ…” Milankovic breathed. “Keep reporting of your progress, please!”

All he could hear over the headset was a barrage of muffled explosions, and the occasional curse from a fighter or navigator. No one was telling him what was going on, and the tension of it was making him bite his nails like they were tasty, crunchy carrots.

“Starfighter _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_ reporting… we’ve been badly hit…” Sasha B said, his voice strained, like he was trying to hold back waves of agony. “Both of us are injured, we’re— _oh my God!_ _H_ —”

His headset suddenly cut off. Milankovic let out the breath he’d been holding for some time, his mouth wide open.

“Starfighter _Dyen-Rozhdeniya_ , report!” he ordered, his voice breaking. “Nisus! Euryalus!”

“They were blown up, sir,” Yura said, uncharacteristically stoically. “Not a trace left.”

“Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Milankovic muttered, covering his mic and trying not to cry. He really loved those two. Especially Euryalus. Now they were gone. Just like that.

Yura and Deimos’ ship was taking heavy fire. There were only three enemy ships left, but they had decided to all take on their starfighter and go for the primitive strategy of destroying the ships one by one. They were incredibly vulnerable to the huge amount of ammo that Cain was pouring into them, but he was only one man. He too could only take on one ship at a time.

A huge shell with an incredibly sharp tip punched through the glass windshield of Starfighter _Chyerdak_. Deimos ducked, instincts only just saving him from being completely mutilated by the debris. However, Yura’s chair was facing the other way, and Deimos did not have enough time to warn him of the oncoming shell.

All he heard was a gasp, but the starfighter suddenly lurching off-course told him that Yura had been instantly killed. He swallowed down the tide of emotions which, although tempered by the adrenaline and bloodlust of battle, were rushing through him with devastating force.

“Phobos is down, sir,” he declared, putting all his effort into not completely breaking down over the comms line. “Shall I navigate?”

In Starfighter _Ruka_ , Seryozha almost totally let go of the controls. He did not take in the full gravity of this statement, since he too was in the fevered mindset of combat, but was with-it enough to kind of realise what he’d just heard. Since the mic was just next to his face, he absolutely refused to let himself show any outward emotions like crying or swearing, for he’d be totally ridiculed by Cain. He just bit his lip, tried to quell the grief in his mind, and continued to navigate.

“Take those fucking ships down, Deimos! Set it on auto! GO!” Encke bellowed, now joining the comms frequency.

Deimos unbuckled himself and launched himself at Yura’s chair. He almost completely lost it at the sight of his body, which still looked alive (just with a hole through his skull and a mid-death throes expression on his face), but turned his eyes away and looked frantically for the auto-pilot setting.

Stabbing the button, he leapt back to his seat and started shooting with such a ferocity that he downed two enemy ships in seconds.

“Holy shit, Deimos! Now _this_ is passion!” Encke exclaimed, applauding him.

“MY NAVIGATOR JUST DIED! HOLY SHIT! DO YOU NOT EVEN HAVE A THREAD OF EMPATHY?” Deimos screamed, in a good mind to switch off his headset altogether.

The left wing of Starfighter _Ruka_ was hit with a small shell, and the shockwave almost made Seryozha shit his unitard. He clenched so hard he probably pulled a muscle, then let out the most grateful and pleasured sigh of relief when Cain blew up the final enemy ship.

“Right, boys, blow the Swamp to pieces!” Milankovic ordered.

Thankfully, Deimos was already facing that way, so he had no need to torture himself by going back to the nav’s chair and turning the starfighter around. He used up all his ammo on the Swamp, trying to hit the most vulnerable-looking places. Cain did the same.

With an ear-splitting boom, the Swamp exploded. Multi-coloured flames penetrated their eyeballs, and the flash was so bright that everyone was blinded for a second.

“GET OUT OF THERE BEFORE THE SHRAPNEL HITS!” Milankovic bellowed.

Deimos braced himself, then went to Yura’s seat and clicked the helpful ‘return home’ button on the control panel. The starfighter navved itself back to the docking station as fast as possible, with Starfighter _Ruka_ close behind.

As soon as they landed in the docking station, the ship rocked as the shrapnel wave pummelled its side. It had lost a lot of its power, since it was quite far away from the blast, but there were still some sizeable bits hurtling through space. There was no real damage, and things returned to normal in seconds.

Both Deimos and Seryozha were in the depths of misery. Deimos was better at hiding it, since he was used to having to be an emotionless rock (and he kind of was, since Cain had bullied him so much he kind of just stopped feeling anything). Seryozha, on the other hand, was just a hair’s breadth away from breaking the fuck down.

_Keep composure, Seryozha, keep composure. Let it out later. Go to the bathroom. You can have a little cry there, maybe. Just stay strong now, alright? Don’t embarrass yourself, don’t… yeah… come on, keep composure… oh fuck, even I’m losing it now, too…_

He bit the inside of his cheek, which really quite hurt, to hopefully distract him from the pain, both rectal and mental. He followed Cain out of the starfighter, to find Commander Milankovic, Keeler and Encke, as well as some of the housekeeping staff (the medical crew, the morgue crew, the cleaners, etc.), assembled to welcome them back. They let out a mighty cheer when they saw the three remaining officers step out of their ships, but quietened down a little when they noticed the downcast and pretty much broken expressions on their faces.

The ache in Seryozha’s rectum grew to full-on agony, signalling the next phase in the GET TO THE TOILET NOW Protocol.


	73. Chapter 73

_Chapter the Seventy-Third_

“Should have gone before we left, shit…” he breathed, almost losing his mind from the desperate nature of his toilet situation.

Milankovic came and slapped him on the back, making him visibly move with the force of his ass cheek clenching.

“Congratulations, Apollo. Brilliant work. Just brilliant.”

“Thank you, sir,” he replied with a pained smile, inclining his head in gratitude, and politely beginning to make his way through the crowd.

“Stunning performance out there, Apollo,” Encke said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Seryozha turned, gave him a grateful nod and smile, then tried to fight through the sea of people who all looked to be interested in speaking to him.

They were all like “Well done!” and “Great job!” and “Congrats!” and as much as he wanted to, Seryozha could not stop to fully thank them. He just kept smiling and nodding and maybe occasionally saying thank you, but the need for the toilet was so great that he simply could not tarry any longer.

He awkwardly slipped past everyone who tried to congratulate him, and eventually found himself in a corridor containing a bathroom. He didn’t dare run, since that would agitate his bowels to the point of literally shitting himself, but walked briskly with his ass cheeks clenched. (That was literally the only thing stopping him from having a real big accident.)

Seryozha almost had a heart attack when Cain suddenly clapped a hand on his shoulder and said hello. He jumped so high he almost left the ground, and his ass cheeks, in their shock, relaxed. Everything shot out, but it was contained inside his unitard, and for some reason Seryozha did not notice.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase here, princess,” Cain said, steering him into the bathroom. “I like you a lot. I probably like you more than I’ve liked anyone on this ship. You know how much I like you? Well…”

He placed a hand on Seryozha’s warm and bulging crotch, with the full intention of ripping his unitard off and giving him a handjob. Seryozha got quite hard when he felt Cain’s hand, and the evil blue-haired fighter smiled.

“Ah, so you like me too?” he teased.

To be honest, the answer was no, but Seryozha was so frenetic and high on all kinds of emotions that he did not dissent to Cain’s making a move. Really, he needed something to distract himself from the grief that was just beginning to creep in.

Seryozha nodded, his eyelids drooping down into that bedroom look. Cain licked his lips and led him into a cubicle. He started kissing his neck, and Seryozha was wracked with the most unexpected and intense arousal. He threw his head back, letting out some embarrassingly submissive gasps. Cain’s touch was just so beautiful.

“I want to make you my bitch, Apollo,” he growled, his husky voice making Seryozha get really hot. Cain unzipped the first little bit of Seryozha’s unitard and revealed his shoulders, beginning to kiss, lick and bite his collarbones. After all, foreplay was very important.

“Then make me your bitch, Cain…” he replied, in the depths of arousal and _seriously_ wanting to be fucked then and there.

Cain circled round him, stopping at a comfortable position behind our favourite well-cheekboned Russian. He carried on his neck-kissing from this new angle, pulling Seryozha’s head back by rather aggressively tugging at his hair so he could reach all of his skin. Seryozha liked it rough, so enjoyed this very much.

By now, Cain’s erection was like a sword, and it was stabbing into Seryozha’s ass. Since there was material (and shit, but they didn’t know that) in the way, it wasn’t quite anal penetration, but they were in the perfect position for it. Seryozha begged to get fucked, but Cain just laughed in a breathy and horny way and teased him for being so desperate.

He introduced some more biting into the neck-kissing, leaving a few marks. He went all the way up and down, from his ear to his collarbone, then turned Seryozha’s head round a bit with one slender hand and kissed him full on the mouth. As per usual, he ended it by biting his lip. Some blood was drawn, but Seryozha just licked it off and submitted to Cain’s gentle caress.

“Please fuck me now, Cain… please…” he pleaded.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He unzipped Seryozha’s unitard, ready to lube up a finger and start things slow (and small). But as soon as he pulled it down to reveal his ass, an avalanche of shit cascaded down.

“HOLY LORD!” Cain shrieked, moving his hands away as fast as lightning.

“JESUS CHRIST! WHAT IS THAT?!” Seryozha thundered, so disgusted at himself that he almost threw up.

The shit was coating the floor now, as well as Cain’s shoes and Seryozha’s unitard. Cain shoved past, kicked the cubicle door down, then legged it.

“CAIN! NO! I’M SORRY! THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!” he screeched, waddling after him.

Cain was at the end of the corridor by the time Seryozha had left the bathroom.

“Please! Cain! I’m sorry! I want to be fucked!”  
            “NO CHANCE IN HELL, YOU DISGUSTING SLUT! COPROPHILIA IS NOT OKAY!”

Cain sprinted out of sight and to a different bathroom to clean up. Seryozha stood there, staring at the place where he had just been standing, and sighed.

Suddenly, Deimos appeared.


	74. Chapter 74

_Chapter the Seventy-Fourth_

_Yes, perfect. He is vulnerable. Now is the perfect time to carry out Cain’s orders._

Deimos advanced upon poor Seryozha and patted him on the shoulder. Seryozha turned around and gave Deimos a death stare mixed with a grimace, pushing his hand away.

“Come on, Apollo, let’s get you cleaned up. You look a little silly like this,” Deimos soothed.

“Get the fuck away from me,” Seryozha spat.

“Oh, Apollo, I’m sure you don’t mean that. You wouldn’t really decline my help, would you?”

“Yes, I— alright. Fine. You can help me just this once.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Deimos slapped him cordially on the back. At the same time, the retractable knives hidden in his sleeve whizzed out, and in the next slap he ran Seryozha through. Seryozha gasped as the ends of the blades burst out of his chest, and blood sprayed out like a broken fire hydrant spraying out water.

“ _Why did you just kill me_?” Seryozha screeched, as he fell on his face in agony.

Deimos shrugged, cackling like a dastardly villain.

“THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER!” he screeched.

As Deimos stepped over Seryozha’s body on the ground and went to tell Cain of his success, the aforementioned Russian rifled through his utility belt for a gun. He drew his laser pistol and inaccurately fired off a couple of rounds. One of them miraculously hit its target, and Deimos was felled instantly. The shot had got him right through the throat, so he gargled, choked up a little blood, then died.

“Fuck yeah! I am _fabulous_!” Seryozha exclaimed, punching the air.

He started coughing uncontrollably, his wound issuing his very life’s blood. Soon, his heart just could not deal with pumping whilst completely mangled, so gave out. Of course, this meant that he kind of stopped living. It was a quick and easy death, not fitting for such an illustrious hero like our Sergei. Ah well.


	75. Chapter 75

_Chapter the Seventy-Fifth_

Cain was now the only one left alive. He was still busy running away from the scene of the shit fiasco, but stopped when he saw that no one was following him. In fact, there was no one around. It was eerily quiet.

“Bollocks!” he cried, as nausea took over his body and he started swaying back and forth.

The Essence of Shrek was now reaching its final infectious stages.

Coughing like a heavy smoker (which he kind of was), Cain dropped to his knees and covered his mouth. Mucus rose up in his throat, and he kept spitting it out onto the floor. Soon, blood was mixed in with this. It swiftly gave way to full-on chundering, but it was merely a foul mixture of mucus and blood. It went all over his body, and he shouted for help from a medical attendant.

With an almighty heave, Cain doubled over and puked out all of the contents of his stomach. He thought it was over, so he stood up shakily and began to brush himself off, but he was seized with another urge. This time, all that came out was a little stomach acid, but the next time was truly horrific.

A bit of his large intestine poked out of his throat. The width of it was too much for his oesophagus to bear, so he retched once more, meaning that a little more of the coil unfurled inside his mouth. That was unbearable, so he retched again, and a bit more came up. He continued in this awful cycle, until his oesophagus inverted on itself and began to come out of his mouth too.

Now, since his digestive system had just been retched up out of his body, the shit inside his rectum had nowhere to go (as it had been ripped from the large intestine) but down. All his faeces plopped out, filling his unitard with a warm and moist mass.

Insensible with pain, he collapsed, falling onto his stomach and intestines. He gripped onto them for dear life, wishing that he could just die already. Sadly, he was not being called by Hades just yet, so he had to lie there in utter agony.

He heaved again, ripping his windpipe from his oesophagus. Now he could not get enough air into his lungs, so he pretty much died of suffocation.

“Apollo, Cain and Deimos, please come to the briefing room for our final briefing,” Keeler announced over the intercom, sounding incredibly pleased.

Some time passed, and none of them had appeared.

“Those obese, good-for-nothing—” Keeler grumbled, before Commander Milankovic entered the briefing room.

“Where are my fighters?” Milankovic asked, his feathers well and truly ruffled.

“No fucking idea. Those fucking stupid shits are probably having a threesome or something.”

Milankovic sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to prevent his oncoming migraine.

“Oh, Lord… Right. Time to send a search party.”

A small group searched the ship top to bottom, and found the corpses of the three men. They returned to Milankovic and told him this, and he gave the biggest death glare/so done sigh in the world.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned.

“Sorry, sir. They’re all dead,” the leader of the search party, a charming gentleman known as Vladimir, said.

“Fuck me. This is just brilliant.”

“We did manage to destroy the Swamp and annihilate the ogre threat, sir,” Keeler attempted, before being slapped across the face by the Commander. After a long silence, Milankovic eased himself back into his chair and sighed deeply.

“This is what’s called a Pyrrhic victory, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Keeler replied.

“Well they feel fucking awful. Right, you lot go and clean up the corpses, and I’ll try and think of what to tell General Toszeimav.”


	76. Chapter 76

_Epilogue_

Sasha B woke up on a piece of his starfighter. It was many days after the blast, so he had floated pretty far. A planet was in sight, as well as a space station orbiting it. He paddled towards that, kicking his legs like he was swimming.

            Reaching the docking station, he grabbed onto the edge and hauled himself onto the outside of the airlock used for going out on space-walks. It was made of a transparent material, as was the inner door, so he knocked on the outside to get the attention of someone inside.

            A very beautiful alien spotted him, and opened the outside of the airlock to admit him. He clambered inside and the door was closed. After the space had reached the correct pressure, the inner door slid open and Sasha B took off his helmet.

            Next was the problem of deciding what language to speak. Clearly, these were a completely different species, so his petty Earth languages of Macedonian and English would not help. He knew a bit of Ogre, thanks to being posted to that mission with Shrek and whatnot, but he figured that even that would not be understood. This beautiful creature did not look like an ogre at all. They looked vaguely humanoid, but with large, luminous eyes, and a taller, slender figure. Their proportions were a little different as well, but Sasha B was totally enchanted. God, this alien was stunning…

            “How may I help you?” they asked, in a voice that sounded like they were speaking through water.

            “You speak Macedonian?!” Sasha B exclaimed, instinctively stepping back a bit.

            “Do not be afraid,” they said. “My scanner told me that that is the language you are most fluent in, so I am speaking it to you.”

            “Right then… That’s kind of weird… But where am I? What planet is this? And can I please get a doctor because I am feeling really faint…”

            He lost his balance, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he blacked out. The alien laughed and picked him up, taking him away to the infirmary.

            When he came round, he found himself lying upon a medical table, with a variety of tubes stuck in various places on his body, and a green liquid coursing through them.

            “What the fuck is going on?” he cried.

            The alien that had spoken to him earlier leaned over the table and smiled. “Worry not, young Macedonian. Everything will be fine.”

            “Are you sure?” he asked, thinking that this was totally _not_ going to be fine.

            “Yes. I am. Everything is going to be alright. Everything…”

            Sasha B’s vision went in and out of focus, and he returned to the depths of unconsciousness once more.

~

“SOMEONE HELP ME!” Yura screamed, his voice coming out as a lame whisper as it was so hoarse. His fingernails scratched the inside of his metal coffin, but made no dent. His hands were covered in blood from where he’d been trying to rip the door off, and his throat was dry from shouting so much.

            He had woken up inside this coffin some time ago, having been pronounced dead. He was in the morgue (he knew this as he’d heard the dulcet tones of morgue attendant Volkov on many an occasion), about to be given a funeral with full military honours. After that, he’d be shot out into space, and at that point there would be no hope left. He would die, suffocating in this tiny metal box.

            The most obvious solution was to kick the end out, since it was weak and easy to break, but since he was so tall, they’d amputated the lower half of his legs to fit him inside the coffin. That pain was kind of bugging him, but it was nothing compared to the ice-cold fear of being buried/sent into space alive.

            “PLEASE, SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME!” he cried, punching the coffin lid with all his might. He broke a few bones in his hand doing this, and the swear words he uttered as a reaction to that were enough to catch the attention of a certain morgue attendant.

            “Jesus fucking communist Christ! You’re alive!” shrieked morgue attendant Volkov, opening the coffin to find Yura’s pitiful form inside.

            “YES, I FUCKING AM. NOW GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

            Morgue attendant Volkov began to haul Yura out, but the head of the morgue appeared, so Volkov had to scarper, whispering: “Quick, Phobos, pretend to be dead!”

            Yura did so, assuming the expression he had when he had apparently ‘died’. Clearly, he was not dead: oh no, quite the opposite. The shell that had gone through his head had actually lodged there, and the material it was made of had antiseptic and healing properties (as it was crafted from substances that were deadly to ogres but beneficial to humans— silly ogres) so his brain miraculously healed around it. Of course, he had lost a lot of intelligence, and could not remember anything from birth to eighteen, but other than that, he was alright.

            The head of the morgue scratched his chin when he saw that the coffin lid was open, but morgue attendant Volkov helpfully explained the (fake) reason for this.

            “Prep the body for the funeral,” the head of the morgue instructed.

            “Will do,” morgue attendant Volkov said, saluting dutifully.

The head of the morgue left, and morgue attendant Volkov leaned down to ‘prepare’ Yura’s body for the funeral.

            “Don’t you fucking _dare_ inject me with any more of that embalming fluid, mate,” Yura said, wagging an aggressive finger.

            “I wasn’t planning on it,” replied morgue attendant Volkov, handing him a spacesuit and helmet. “Put this on, so you’ll be alright when they launch you out. As soon as you’re far from the ship, the coffin will pop open due to the pressure of space, and you can use its lid to float to a Russian garrison that’s not too far away, due east. Use a signal flare once you’re close by, and they’ll let you in. They’re used to this; it happens all the time. When you’re in there, they can hook you up with a starfighter or two to get you back home. It’s been happening for years. I’ve done this to a few of the officers on this mission who ended up alive. I think your fighter boyfriend was one of them.”

            Morgue attendant Volkov left before Yura could ask which boyfriend that was. I mean, he did have two. And he didn’t know if either of them had died. You see, he’d been knocked out cold as soon as he got shot, and he remained like that for many, many hours. When he awoke, he was in the coffin. There was a large amount of time that had elapsed between the two events, and the worries about either Apollo or Deimos being dead were killing him inside.

            He put on the spacesuit and helmet over his clothes, struggling a lot due to the fact he was missing half his legs. Thankfully, no one came in except morgue attendant Volkov, who closed and locked his coffin when Yura had finished changing.

            It was a cramped and uncomfortable time, waiting for his funeral. Yura felt exceedingly strange, but soon banished these thoughts and ended up falling asleep. It was the most blissful and delicious sleep of all, since the air tank had a higher oxygen level than normal air, so he got nicely energised and slightly high.

            When he woke up, his mind drifted to thoughts of palyets. He was a few weeks clean, but the drug was so highly addictive that one could experience withdrawal symptoms for decades. He still had spells of feeling like complete shit, and just at this particular time, a real strong withdrawal feeling was creeping up.

            _I’m not addicted, I can stop whenever I like!_ he thought. _But if what morgue attendant Volkov said works, then I’d best get myself some more palyets. We Russians did invent it after all. There’s bound to be some in that garrison._

He scolded himself for sounding like such an addict, but licked his lips at the thought of some more palyets. It was just rather vexing that they didn’t put him in this coffin with his vodka and caustic soda dispensers (they gave the palyets user the exact right amount of each liquid for taking palyets, and Yura had made them himself). They were really quite helpful.

            He fell asleep again, since he really had not got enough for this whole mission, and did not— until now— realise just how tired he was. He slept through his funeral, but was awoken as soon as he was shot out into the depths of space. A cold stab of fear went through him, but assured himself that things would be alright.

            The coffin lid suddenly blew open, and he grabbed it before it floated too far away. With a small push from his bum, he started gently lifting out of the coffin, the momentum of the lid also taking him along. Once fully outside, he started to kick his (actually quite clean and well-healed) leg stumps to get him to go in the right direction.

            Looking in the GPS on the left sleeve of the spacesuit, he saw that the Russian garrison was actually a lot further than he’d been led to believe by morgue attendant Volkov. He put his thrusters on full power, but expended all the fuel before he was even close. He kept kicking like he was trying to win the Paralympic swimming, and readied himself for a monotonous and scary journey.

            By distracting himself with other thoughts, he found that the time passed a lot faster. He was close to the garrison now, so got out a signal flare and set it off. He reached the airlock, which was kindly opened. As soon as the pressure was equalised, the Russians opened the door and some medical crew rushed in to help him.

            “Thank God you people actually speak my language; it was so tiring speaking English for that long,” Yura said, smiling at the sound of familiar Russian accents all around him.

            “Another one of your lot said exactly the same thing!” one of the medical attendants noted. “Now he was hot… Gorgeous hair, strong jawline, _beautiful_ cheekbones… ten out of ten, would bang.”

            She gave Yura the most paedophilic smile in the universe. Even from that small description, Yura knew exactly who that medical attendant was talking about, and it made him almost implode. His beloved Seryozha was here!

            The medical crew took him to recuperate in their sick bay, and Yura was so jittery thinking about seeing one of his boyfriends again. He was a bit cut up about not seeing Deimos as well, but he decided that one was better than nothing, and it was a sluttish thing for him to be fucking two men at the same time. (Pretty rich coming from an ex-rent boy.)

            “So,” said the captain of this garrison. “I suppose you are wanting a starfighter to return to Earth.”

            “Yes, I would love that… and do I call you sir?” Yura replied.

            “Technically no, since the Russian units are auxiliaries and officially lower in rank than you lot. But in practice, yes. I’m power-hungry and I want people to be subservient to me.”

            “Alright… sir. Would you mind lending me a starfighter to get back home?”

            “Of course not. In fact, I’ve got a fighter from your ship about to leave. Care to join him?”

            “Certainly! I’ll go immediately, sir!”  
            Yura instinctively tried to get out of the bed, forgetting that he didn’t have half his legs. He jumped when his feet didn’t touch the ground (because he didn’t actually _have any_ ), but was helpfully aided by a medical attendant, who took him to the docking station.

            Looking as suave and as sexy as ever, Seryozha was prepping a starfighter for launch. Yura’s heart skipped a beat and he got all nervous and sweaty like this was their first date, and fought the urge to leap out of his wheelchair and commando-crawl over to Seryozha’s penis to suck it. (Yes, those were his first thoughts.)

            “Oh, Jesus Christ!” Seryozha exclaimed when he saw him, looking to be having a heart attack. “Oh, fuck! Fucking hell! My Lord!”

            “Got anything else to say to me, other than curses?” Yura teased, surprising himself at his rather restrained conduct.

            Seryozha opened his mouth to speak, gesticulating like he was trying to swat a million flies away from his face. He thought of no words, and stood there with a ridiculous expression on his face, looking like an idiot.

            “Apollo, could we _please_ hurry up! I have been in this garrison for ages! I want to leave!” came a voice from inside the starfighter.

            “Yeah yeah, Scarlett!” Seryozha shouted back. “Just a second!”

            “Scarlett?” Yura repeated. “She’s still alive?”

            “Yeah… Turns out I didn’t suffocate her _completely_ to death.”

            “Wait, you _suffocated_ her?”

            “Long story, but yes. She’s still a bit pissed about it.”

            “No fucking way! I’d be too, if you suffocated me!”

            “Why would I suffocate you?!”

            “Erotic asphyxiation, Apollo. Don’t deny it. We’ve done it.”

            “Oh, fuck… Yeah… Let’s change the subject.”

            Seryozha took Yura into the starfighter, plonked him into the spare chair, strapped him in whilst trying hard not to touch his dick, then sat in the fighter’s chair.

            “Phobos, why don’t you do comms for us, since you’re not doing anything else?” Seryozha suggested.

            “My pleasure,” Yura replied, at the same time as Laurentina shrieking “PHOBOS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

            “Starfighter _Pochta_ , are you ready to leave?” a voice over the headset asked.

            “Yes sir, Starfighter _Pochta_ is ready,” said Yura.

            “Then you have permission to fly.”

            “Thank you, sir. Going in three… two… one...”

            And off they went.

~

“Hom nom hunana, hom nom hunana…” the beings chanted, hoisting Johan on high. He struggled in his bonds, but he was tied to the pole so tightly that he could not move.

            “HOM NOM HUNANA, HOM NOM HUNANA…” the head of the aliens barked, tapping his ten-toed foot on the ground to keep time.

            The aliens, all dressed in black and flowing skirts, paraded Johan around on the flagpole, showing him off as a kind of human trophy. There was a flag on the top, denoting the country of their defeated enemy, and Johan underneath, looking very much the worse for wear. He was battered and bruised, with all kinds of broken bones and severed limbs.

            They leaned the flag over a pit filled with toxic sludge. There was a drop of about one hundred metres, however, before the sea of goo, making it all the scarier.

            “Please stop!” he exclaimed, before bursting into tears, as the aliens did not speak his language.

            “HOM NOM HUNANA, HOMYEH NOMYEH HU! HOM NOM HUNANA, HOMYEH NOMYEH HU!”

            They lowered the end of the flagpole over the pit, letting Johan get a whiff of its noxious scent. He passed out instantly because of the dangerous fumes, so did not notice when they dropped him in. He fell silently, instantly dissolving when he hit the toxic sludge.

            “Excellent, my friends,” said a colossal figure in a white robe. “You will do very well as my next minions.”

            “Hom nom Master Shrek, hom nom Master Shrek…” they began to chant, bowing at the feet of the Scottish ogre.

            Shrek cackled and patted the nearest two aliens on the head.

            “After our ship is built, we can return and DESTROY THE HUMANS!”

            “HOM NOM HUNANA, HOM NOM HUNANA!” the aliens hollered, running around in a manic frenzy.

            They kept chanting, their voices carrying up to the heavens, and the sound of the engineers building the ship ringing through the night.

**_Fin_ **


End file.
